Love's Smirking Revenge
by Langus
Summary: Inuyasha Takahashi is a seasoned detective heading the most publicized Yakuza murder investigation of the year. Kagome Higurashi is a journalist who likes a good mystery. When the two clash over the investigation will sparks fly or will they get burned?
1. On a Dark and Stormy Night

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 1

- On A Dark and Stormy Night -

A heavy Tokyo rain thundered against the roof of the squad car, ignorant of the single occupant's throbbing migraine. Dragging heavily from the freshly lit cigarette at his lips he eyed the scene ahead of him through the windshield. Swarms of television reporters and journalists, like flies hovering around a festering carcass, braved the downpour beneath their sleek black umbrellas in the hopes of scooping up some wayward tidbit of information to use in the evening news.

With a muttered comment about how he 'fucking hated reporters' he stabbed what was left of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray next to him and reached for his jacket in the backseat. Pulling it over his shoulders to shield himself from the cold November air, he took a second to breathe in the scent of leather. It was one of the few small pleasures he had left. Nothing beat fresh leather on a cold day…or a warm day for that matter. With a resounding sigh he flipped up the collar on his jacket and hunched his shoulders in preparation for the cool drizzle that would meet him the moment he ventured out from the warm, dry confines of the car.

The sounds and smells from outside hit him like a wall the moment he slammed the car door shut. The dim blue and red of emergency lights flashed up ahead but the blinding spotlights of the photographer's bulbs were brighter. Within two strides he was encircled by a frenzy of blurred faces and microphones, rudely shoved within inches of his mouth expecting something profound to come out. "No comment," he snarled as he pushed his way through the throng with an irritated grunt.

Detective Takahashi breathed a sigh of relief as he dipped below the crime scene tape and settled into his groove on the other side of the yellow barrier. Grabbing the constable closest to him roughly by the arm, he nodded his head towards the crowd with a scowl.

"Just what part of keep the hounds at bay don't you understand son? Do your fucking job and get those damned reporters out of here!"

The pale faced uniform, fresh out of the academy, nodded his head dumbly as he stumbled over his words.

"Ye-yes sir, of course sir, it won't happen again!"

With a short jerky bow he stepped toward the crowd and began barking orders to step back from the line.

His mouth set firm, Detective Takahashi straightened his shoulders and stalked towards the centre of the crime scene. It was the 49th homicide of the year – he'd been keeping count out of a morbid sense of curiosity – and he was none too enthused about working yet another case on top of his already mountainous workload. For every case he closed, six more were waiting on his desk with no leads, no witnesses and no end in sight. It was enough to make anyone feel jaded at the state of the world.

Upon entering the inner crime scene circle, he was accompanied by a rather nervous but competent officer from 39th division. Apparently the body straddled the boundaries of both divisions, meaning that there would be a messy political battle ahead. There was nothing Takahashi hated more vehemently than office politics. He was of the mind that it was best to go to work, do your job and go home, end of story. He didn't have time to waste on figuring out whose ass to kiss, so he never did. Sure it had probably cost him a promotion here or there, but that was just fine with him. 'Promotion' was just a fancy word for 'more ass kissing' and the less he had to do it the better.

"So what's the story with this one?" he asked gruffly while eyeing the white sheet that'd been laid over the body. A watery blood stain seeped out from the head of the victim. The rain washed it down across the pavement, taking with it any evidence they may have been able to use.

"You're not gonna like this one boss," the officer warned as he flipped open his clipboard and lifted his umbrella to shield both of them from the rain. Detective Takahashi grunted noncommittally – since when was a murder grounds for getting excited? He crossed his arms in front of his chest and tilted his head toward the clipboard. His amber eyes scanned the scribbled notes until they fell on the name of the victim and widened with surprise.

"So he finally paid the Piper," he commented dryly with a low whistle. His eyes scanned the body once more but this time with a new appreciation. He was actually surprised 'Lucky' had been so lucky. He was one of the top rats in the most dangerous Yakuza group to ever roam Tokyo. He'd single-handedly helped to put three top bosses behind bars and was the star witness in several pending cases. It was only a matter of time before someone realized his number was up. With a small smile Takahashi realized that this might actually be a case he would enjoy working. He was curious to know who'd finally taken poor Lucky Akita out to pasture.

"Where's my coffee?" he barked at the officers surrounding him. A few jumped and scampered off, the rest shook their heads and went back to work. Easing his hands into his pockets to keep them warm, he absently jingled his car keys while his eyes surveyed the scene.

"So what do we know so far?" he asked distractedly to the officer at his side. His eyes never wavered from the wet pavement as he stood listening with his hands buried in his pockets. They emerged momentarily to accept a steaming coffee offered to him by a dark haired female corporal. He dismissed her with a slight nod of his head before taking a careful sip. She bowed but didn't immediately move away. Instead she hovered close and kept an ear tuned to their conversation. He couldn't be bothered to tell her to piss off after she brought him a coffee.

"Well it's a single GSW to the head, execution style. Victim appears to have died immediately. There was no gun or shell casings found at the scene."

"That's to be expected," Takahashi cut in. He trained his amber eyes on the young officer's with a look that said 'listen up. I'm about to teach you something important'.

"You see, Lucky here was an informant. It's almost guaranteed one of the mob bosses he rubbed the wrong way in the past put a hit out on him. This is a professional hit for hire. There won't be any evidence at this scene and anything that could've been left behind has long since been washed away."

With a meaningful glare he nodded at the rain laden clouds. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, briefly lighting up the night before plunging them once more into darkness.

"Don't think this storm was just a coincidence. They take everything into consideration."

The officer nodded his head readily and jotted a couple of additions to the bottom of his clipboard. Detective Takahashi took another slow sip from the steaming coffee cup in his hands and let out a relieved sigh as its heat travelled down his throat and seeped into his bones to warm him from the inside out.

"Damn, this is great coffee. Where'd you get it from?" He turned to ask the uniform who'd given it to him but she was long gone. With a light shrug of his shoulders he turned back to the body and took another sip. _Okay_, he told himself, t_ime to put the pieces back together._

_xXx_

When the Detective awoke the next morning, it was to the blaring ring of the telephone next to his head. Pushing a half empty glass of what had been _shochu _on the rocks and an overloaded ashtray out of the way, his hands snaked its way to the phone. Picking up the receiver he jammed it against his ear without bothering to open his eyes.

"What," he demanded, his voice rough from drink and lack of sleep. His head was pounding yet again. He winced as he tried to open his eyes. Thinking better of it he scrunched them shut once more and massaged his forehead with the palm of his free hand.

"Boss it's me. Have you read the paper this morning?"

"Does it _sound_ like I've read the paper?" he demanded irritably.

With a groan he threw the covers off his half naked body and padded across the apartment to the door. Stopping to scratch an itch he pulled the phone away from his ear and yawned. It took a solid back stretch, a loud crack to signify that everything was settling into place and a full body shake before he felt awake enough to open the door. Groaning loudly he stooped to pick up the paper - conveniently delivered to his doorstep by the morning carrier - and carried it under his arm inside.

The door shut behind him and he stumbled over to the folding table set up in the center of his kitchen and sat himself at it. With the phone nestled between his ear and shoulder, he opened his daily copy of the _Asahi Shimbun_ and scanned the headlines.

"What am I looking for?" he demanded into the phone.

The officer on the other end of the line, who had remained patiently silent up until that point, helpfully pointed out that he should turn to page six. Thumbing through the next several pages, he stopped at page six and allowed his sleep bleary eyes to scan its contents. There was a small article about the GSW from the previous night, nothing to be too concerned about. He was about to say as much to the officer who was still patiently waiting on the phone when his eyes fell on a particularly interesting paragraph.

"…_the 29__th__ Division has veteran detective Takahashi working the case. Currently there are no leads or suspects and there is a surprising lack of evidence found at the scene. Takahashi has suggested that the 49__th__ homicide of the year was in fact a mob hit, saying that the victim, one Ren 'Lucky' Akita, "finally paid the Piper." _

"'_Lucky' Akita, as he preferred to be called, was a top informant to the authorities on the movements of several yakuza clans and was scheduled to be the star witness in several upcoming high profile trials. His death is a great loss to our city. This reporter can only hope that Detective Takahashi will take a more serious attitude when it comes to finding the perpetrators of this crime. Considering his less than impressive track record this past year…"_

Grinding his teeth together, Takahashi slammed the phone down on the table and panned his eyes to the top of the article. His lips moved as he read the name of the journalist who had somehow infiltrated his information net – Kagome Higurashi. Narrowing his eyes at the blurred greyscale picture of her, he burned the image of her face into his memory.

He threw his morning paper to the floor with a snarl and stalked to the bathroom for a shower. This was just how he'd hoped to start his day - with a pounding headache and some fucking two-bit reporter tearing his reputation to shreds all over Japan. Kagome Higurashi, whoever the annoying little bitch was, was going learn hard and fast that it wasn't wise to tangle horns with Inuyasha Takahashi.

* * *

___Author's Note: _Please feel free to review! This is kind of a new genre for me so I'd love to hear what you think. In case you are wondering this is going to be an Inuyasha/Kagome fic. Thanks!


	2. Sound Off

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 2

- Sound Off -

The news room at the Asahi Shimbun was a veritable hive, each part worked in accordance with the rest to form a living, breathing news machine. Within the central command centre, row upon row of overflowing desks were occupied by frantic journalists attempting to get their articles completed for the evening press. Day after day they engaged in an epic struggle to record the happenings of the city for the reading pleasure of their daily audience. Journalist Kagome Higurashi was just one of many worker bees within the Asahi Shimbun hive.

Hunched over her desk, she typed furiously at her laptop, her fingers whizzing across the keys in an attempt to get her latest bit finished. Pausing mid key stroke to re-check a fact, she gnawed unconsciously on the gel pen wedged between her teeth. This latest piece would publicize a government scandal involving the senator. According to an inside source, he and his cronies paid some mob goons to rig the upcoming election and 'take care of' the competition. There would be hell to pay, what with lawsuits and character defamation claims, but she was confident in her sources and knew her boss would back her up. He loved the publicity her stories brought the paper and it didn't hurt that readership had increased three percent since she'd started writing for him the previous October.

Even though she was the youngest and greenest reporter on the payroll, Kagome was already infamous for her work. Her readers loved her hard hitting stories and the juicy tidbits of gossip she threw their way, while her colleagues blanched at the fact she'd outshone them in such a short amount of time. She was notorious for being able to snag the most trustworthy sources for her pieces –another thing most other journalist only dream of. How did she do it? Well…that was her creative secret, but it certainly helped that her parents owned a costume shop downtown.

Spitting out the pen that was slowly collecting saliva in her mouth, she took a hasty sip from the energy drink resting atop a stack of file folders at her side and resumed typing. She was so absorbed in her work she didn't hear the secretary page her over the intercom. _"Kagome Higurashi, please call reception, Kagome Higurashi."_

A few productive moments later she was interrupted with a start when a copy of the Asahi Shimbun was rudely thrown onto her desk.

The paper succeeded in knocking a large stack of file folders and newspaper clippings to the floor in a giant fluttering heap. Kagome narrowed her eyes at the horrible grainy picture of herself staring placidly up from the headline of page six. She'd been forced to submit the picture to HR so it could be placed next to her pieces. The paper had a thing about giving a face to the voice of the journalists…it all had to do with some garbage about connecting with the readers on a more personal level or PR bull like that.

Kagome couldn't have cared less. Frankly, she was certain her work spoke for itself and if she had her way, every article she wrote would remain Anonymous. There was still far too much sexism hanging around for her liking and it had become painfully obvious as time went on that in order to be taken seriously she either had to become a man, which certainly wasn't happening, or become a ball busting reporter who went straight for the jugular with each and every piece. Unfortunately, while she was preening her reputation as a serious journalist this damn picture continued its daily circulation around Japan - she looked about twelve and completely incapable of handling a piece about a local lemonade stand, let alone a hard hitting front page story.

Kagome lifted her gaze from the pages of the newspaper to meet a pair of blazing amber eyes glowering down at her. The owner of said eyes had a scowl marring his unshaven face to match the dark glare he was sending her way. Not easily intimidated, she sat back in her chair, crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow upwards. "Can I help you?" If being a bitch was an Olympic sport, she would've won a gold medal. She fixed the silver haired man standing on the other side of her desk with a look that said 'I'm incredibly important so this had better be good.'

Detective Takahashi smirked at her as he leaned forward to jab his finger at the article facing upside down on her desk. "Are you Higurashi Kagome?"

It was a rhetorical question of course. With the picture right in front of him it was fairly obvious who she was. Her likeness to the small photo was uncanny. As he eyed her down in the flesh, the fog of in his brain began to clear and he realized, if a little belatedly, that he recognized her. She'd been at the crime scene the previous night! She was the damned lieutenant who'd brought him the coffee. How could he have missed it before? Well, the drunken stupor he'd been in the previous night might've had something to do with it…

"So what if I am?" she demanded haughtily, her red pump tapping impatiently against the over-polished tile floor.

"I got a few words of advice for ya. Watch what you're writing in here. You don't know who you're dealing with," he warned, his tone low and serious.

Kagome scoffed and stood up. The wheels of her chair squeaked nosily in protest as they were roughly pushed backwards. Resting her weight on her fingertips she held his gaze and leaned forward across her desk until their faces were mere inches apart. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and smirked at the realization he'd enjoyed a liquid breakfast. It was probably an excellent chaser to his liquid dinner judging by the look and smell of him. He was nothing but a washed up old hack with a score to settle. There was definitely no bite left to his bark. He may have been a hero back in the old days, but this was a different time and in the fast paced modern world no one waited for heroes to find themselves, they just moved on to new ones.

She fixed the Detective with a condescending glare and openly castrated him, not bothering to lower her voice. "Ah yes…the great Detective Takahashi. Forgive me if I don't bow. As far as I'm concerned, you haven't done anything praise worthy in a long time. I was going easy on you with this article. Cross me and you'll have your reputation demolished before you can say 'severance pay.'"

Inuyasha smiled at that comment and Kagome was surprised to see a row of perfectly white teeth gleam from behind his chapped lips. Considering how the rest of him looked – angry and dishevelled – she'd expected them to be a pleasant shade of yellow. The reek of cigarettes and alcohol coming off of him was enough to make her gag so she did her best to breathe shallow as they squared off across her desk.

"Listen babe-,"

"The name's Higurashi, get it straight," she interjected, glowering at his purposefully sexist reference.

"Yeah, whatever doll…look the point is this - I've got an investigation to run and I don't need any prissy little reporters poking their noses in where they don't belong. I should have you arrested," he threatened, gesturing to the article, "for interfering in a police investigation, trying to ruin my reputation, and posing as a police officer." A smug smile tugged at his lips as he took in the look of shocked surprise that flashed across her features.

With the confident air of a shoddy poker player hiding three aces up his sleeve, he eased himself down onto a weathered office chair and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. Apparently she hadn't thought about whether or not he would recognize her from the crime scene. That was her underestimation, her mistake, and he enjoyed watching the flush of embarrassment and frustration rise to her cheeks. He rested the balls of his feet on the floor and used them for traction as he turned from side to side in the swivel chair.

"Don't play games with me Takahashi," Kagome seethed, her voice steely and calculating as she pointed her finger angrily at his chest. "I know as well as you do that no one is going to arrest me, much less prosecute me for writing that article. The only one pissed about it is you. So if you don't have anything else to say to me leave, I'm on a rather strict deadline."

With a smile of satisfaction she seated herself back at her desk and hastily picked up where she'd left off at her laptop. The sound of the keys clacking echoed noisily in the dead air between her and the Detective. Sensing that he was watching her she glanced up hesitantly to see his amber eyes boring into her skull. With a sigh of resignation she set aside her laptop, yet again, and leaned her elbows on the desktop.

"Look, if you wanna set the record straight, do a proper interview. You haven't made a single comment to the press in over five years, not since that homicide case back in 2001."

Kagome faltered slightly when she saw the Detective's face darken at the mention of the murder. It had been one of his first high profile cases and he'd utterly botched it. It was no fault of his own of course, the red tape and politics surrounding the murder had bogged the investigation down from the start, but he was never quite the same afterwards. For a while he'd openly blamed the press for letting the killer get away and then he just disappeared off the radar all together. From the look and smell of him, it hadn't been a pleasant five years.

"All I'm saying," Kagome continued on, "is that there's a lot more to the story than you're letting on. The people of Tokyo have a right to know what's happening in their city. If you become my source I'll give you final say on whatever I write. It's a win, win situation and the best deal I can offer you. I think you'll be hard pressed to hear a better offer from any other journalist out there."

Kagome crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side as she studied his reaction. His face remained closed off and dark as he thought her proposal over. She noticed his fingers tapping anxiously against the moulded plastic arm rest of his chair and hoped it was a good sign. Landing a source like Inuyasha Takahashi would be the best career move she'd ever made.

Her eyes panned lazily up to the clock and she cursed aloud as she realized her deadline was almost up. Typing furiously, she finished her article with a resounding flourish and copied it into an email to her Editor. With a soft sigh she closed the cover of her laptop and noticed the Detective still sitting across from her, his expression troubled.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked, speaking a little softer than before.

He seemed startled to hear her voice and shook himself out of his daze. With a groan he pushed himself out of the chair and tucked it behind the desk he'd taken it from. As he started to retreat without saying anything further, she called out to him.

"Pick me up at seven."

"What?" Inuyasha spun around to stare at her, not sure he'd heard her right.

"We're having our first interview tonight. Pick me up here at seven and we'll go to dinner…Oh and try to wear something half decent." With this last comment she trailed her eyes disapprovingly over his attire and shook her head discreetly.

With a snort and a muttered 'yeah whatever', Inuyasha turned heel and stalked out of the news room. When he emerged from the building onto the street below, he squinted up at the grey clouds overhead and put a cigarette to his lips. Taking a slow drag he surveyed the traffic along the sidewalk before casually leaning back against the ruddy brick of the building. Just what the hell had he gotten himself into? It'd been a long time since he'd had a woman put him in his place and even longer since he'd had a decent dinner date with one. Well, at least the broad was attractive, even if she was the world's biggest bitch.

"Shit," he cursed aloud before taking one final drag on his cigarette. Flicking it into the gutter he turned up his collar and rammed his hands into his coat pockets. With a quick glance over his shoulder he set his face into a grim scowl and stalked down the street towards the nearest shopping centre.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Thanks to Venusgurl5 for your review! You're awesome for taking the time to write. If the rest of you would like to review too I'd love to hear from you. Do you have any suggestions as to where you'd like this story to go? If so, I'd love to hear 'em. Until next time...


	3. Dinner For Three?

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 3

- Dinner for Three? -

The dimmed lights and soft Parisian music serenading the patrons of _L'Espace_ were designed to create a romantic atmosphere. Within the small but quaint bistro there were only three occupied tables; one by an affluent elderly couple, the second by a pair of obnoxiously happy newlyweds celebrating their freshly inked status as husband and wife, and lastly there was the Detective and Kagome. Seated next to the warm glowing fire in the stone hearth they appeared, from the outside at least, like any normal couple out on a date. If anyone happened to take a closer look at the two would-be diners however, they might have noticed something very odd indeed – a complete lack of conversation.

The pair had arrived twenty minutes earlier after an uneventful and equally silent car ride. Detective Takahashi had picked Kagome up at her office in an undercover squad car, a move she found appalling (didn't he own his own car?), and proceeded to drive in muted silence the entire way to the restaurant. Kagome made a mild attempt at small talk, commenting about the rain and how it hadn't let up all afternoon, asking where he got the new shirt he was wearing…nothing but simple, polite questions any stranger would ask another. His response had been silence and then more silence. Frustrated and annoyed by his apparent refusal to cooperate, she'd crossed her arms in front of her chest in a huff and refused to utter another word.

Now that they were seated at a finely polished cherry wood table, with a newly pressed white linen tablecloth and a bottle of the house red resting untouched between them, their situation had not improved. Though normally by now Kagome would have caved and said _something_, if only to make herself look normal to the other patrons in the restaurant, yet something had made her pause. She happened to glance up from the menu she'd been perusing in her lap only to find the Detective staring at her, or to be more specific, her chest. Realizing he'd been caught, he quickly glanced back down at his own menu and pretended as if nothing had happened. Kagome however, understood all to well what was going on.

She sat back with a satisfied smirk, knowing that her careful planning had not gone to waste. He'd been blatantly checking her out. Of course he had! She looked gorgeous. The black satin, strapless Gucci number she wore and the way her curls had been pinned to fall elegantly around her shoulders in a relaxed yet sexy coif didn't come together by accident. Every detail of her attire had been carefully selected and put together with the sole intention of getting more information out of the Detective than he was necessarily willing to give.

She'd learned long ago that to get what you want in a man's world you have to play hard ball and sometimes the best way to do that was to play the part of the Vixen. Men can't resist pining after what they can't have, especially when it's dangled before their eyes like a tantalizing treat. Every man that'd passed them on their two block walk from the parking garage to the restaurant had subtly, or not so subtly, checked her out. She'd been waiting to see if the Detective was immune to her charms, and she truly had to commend him for holding out so long, but like all the others he'd been drawn in too. Now the real game could begin. Apparently the frigid and socially inept Inuyasha Takahashi could be made to feel something - even if it was only fleeting lust. Crossing her stocking-covered legs casually, Kagome rested her menu against the table and eyed her "date".

Inuyasha could feel her eyes on him but refused to glance up. _Damn harpie…_He was angry with himself for allowing her to catch him. He hadn't meant to stare at her, hadn't even meant to glance in her direction, but the way her perfect breasts heaved within the confines of that tight satin dress with each breath she took had drawn him in like a moth to a burning flame. Well, there was nothing that could be done about it now. He would just have to bite the bullet and try to remain civil. The annoyingly repetitive 'tap-tap-tap-tap' of her perfectly manicured nails against the table top set his teeth on edge.

"Do you mind?" he demanded in a bored and irritated tone.

Kagome stilled her movements. Her fingers lifted from the table to hover like claws, poised and ready to strike down her prey. She fixed him with a look of mock astonishment.

"Oh! So you aren't mute after all. Here I was beginning to worry that you'd lost your tongue and our date would be a complete waste!"

Her ruby lips curled into a mocking smile as she spoke, one which Inuyasha tactfully chose to ignore. Damn bitch was baiting him. Brushing off the feeling of unease that made his hands clammy and his chest tight, he did his best to ignore her. He already felt trapped and they hadn't even been here a half hour. Burying his nose in the menu he scanned the pages but didn't absorb any of what was there.

"This isn't a date," he assured her, his voice sounding overly loud in the quiet atmosphere. The moment the words left his lips he regretted them. They sounded forced and utterly unconvincing. She looked at him as if she could smell his discomfort and he didn't like it one bit. He was used to having the upper hand but he'd gone into this one utterly unprepared and now she knew it as well as he did.

"If this isn't a date then how would you define one?" she inquired, curiously arching one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows.

Inuyasha forced his eyes to travel unseeingly over the menu, anything if it meant he didn't have to actually look at her. When he realized with frustration that he couldn't ignore her forever, and that he couldn't read a single damn thing on the menu since it was all in French, he heaved a sigh and sat back. Holding Kagome's gaze prisoner with his own he crossed his arms, mimicking her posture.

"Generally, the term 'date' would imply that you're out with someone you're interested in or enjoy being around. Since I am certainly not interested in you and don't enjoy being in your presence for any longer than is absolutely necessary, no, I would not qualify this as a date. It's business, that's it."

Kagome pouted her perfectly plumped and glossed lips at his words and tilted her head to the side inquisitively. "Are you sure you're not interested in me?" she asked sweetly as she leaned forward to rest her arms atop the table.

He knew immediately what she was referring to and replied almost too quickly with a curt, "I'm sure."

It took every ounce of willpower he had not to glance down at the perfect creamy mounds that were assuredly ready to burst forth from their black satin prison. He cleared his throat, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced up to find a waiter. Spotting one, he motioned for him to come over and subtly wiped away the faint glistening sweat that'd broken out along his brow.

"Bonsoir monsieur, mademoiselle, êtes-vous prêt à passer votre commande?" (_Good evening Sir, Miss, are you ready to place your order?_) The waiter's perfect Parisian French flowed off his lips like the smoothest of wines. With a curt bow he took up residence, poised and ready with his pen and pad of paper, at Inuyasha's side.

"Do you got burgers and fries here?" the Detective demanded and flipped a dismissive hand towards the menu.

To say that the waiter looked appalled would be an understatement. If his jaw could have detached itself from his head and hit the floor it would have. At Kagome's disgusted 'tsk' he turned to look at her incredulously as if to say "is this guy for real?" Smiling sweetly, she placed an order for both of them in perfect French and apologized for her date's behaviour. With an appreciative smile and a nod, Alain (according to the gold plated name tag pinned to the left side of his crisply pressed shirt) gathered their menus and set off towards the kitchen.

Kagome smiled after him, looking the part of a content and happy customer. Once his white dress shirt disappeared from view she turned a scathing glare on her date. "Do you got burgers and fries?" She mocked, imitating the naturally gruff tone of his voice. Lifting her palms upwards in an imploring gesture, she glowered at him expectantly. "Seriously?"

Takahashi shrugged his shoulders and stared off towards the darkened windows on the other side of the restaurant. He hated that she had the ability to make him feel like a complete idiot without even trying. What was it about this girl that actually made him give a damn? He'd even gone out and bought a new shirt and slacks for the occasion. It all seemed so ridiculous. One minute he hated her and the next he was practically drooling over her perfect breasts.

An image flashed before his mind of a picture he'd seen once, a long time ago. His body froze as the face blurred his vision like a waking nightmare. It was a headshot of a body laid out on the morgue slab. Though her torso had been covered in vicious, gaping slashes, her face was peaceful and unmarred. With dark hair and pale skin one could almost say she resembled the girl sitting before him now. That thought made Takahashi swallow hard…real hard. Blinking furiously to clear his eyes of the image that didn't seem to want to fade, he hastily poured himself a glass of wine and gulped it down.

"Easy there tiger," Kagome cautioned with a wry smile.

Inuyasha caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye and set his glass gently back down on the table. He didn't make a move to refill it. He studied her in silence for a moment and allowed his eyes to roam over her features one by one. After a moment he breathed a small sigh of relief. _No…I was wrong. She looks nothing like her, _he convinced himself with a sense of finality.

"So what did you order anyways?" he asked to break the silence between them. He'd fully intended on remaining mute for the rest of their "date" but his stomach had other ideas and growled profusely as he took in the smells of French cuisine all around them.

"Well for myself I ordered the Asian marinated yellow fin tuna on a bed of baby greens with balsamic vinaigrette sauce. For you I got the surf 'n turf – steak and shrimp. I guessed medium rare on the bloody side. Oh and a bottle of imported laeger as well. I didn't take you for a 'sipping red wine' kinda guy." Glancing askew at the half empty wine pitcher and his glass she smirked. "Apparently I was right."

She was curious to see just how close she'd been with his food order. She prided herself on being able to discern things about people simply by watching them. As if on cue the Detective raised his eyebrows at her, either out of surprise or genuine approval – she couldn't tell which. Kagome leaned forward again and peered at him curiously. Her breasts of course made another tantalizing appearance at the top of her dress, just enough to tempt the eye without being too scandalous.

"Yeah, that sounds fine," he muttered before tearing his gaze away from her again.

This damn woman just didn't let up. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair for what felt like the hundredth time and glared suspiciously at the fire. It was definitely too hot; he was sweating like a prostitute in church! He turned back to her when he heard the muffled sound of something settling hard against the table. His eyes dropped to the tape recorder sitting inconspicuously in front of him. The tape was already whirling, ready to document every earth shattering word that came out of his mouth.

"We might as well start our interview while we wait for our food," he heard her point out logically. Inuyasha continued to stare hesitantly at the reels as they moved slowly clockwise, winding more and more tape around themselves. He gave a non-committal shrug and reached for the cigarettes in his blazer pocket.

"You can't smoke in here." Her reproach sliced into his thoughts like a knife through hot butter. He paused with a cigarette halfway to his lips and shot her an exasperated look.

"Why the hell not?"

Without speaking she pointed innocently to the sign resting over the mantle of the fireplace next to them. It read, in delicately curved script: _Attention: __Defense de Fumeur, sil vous plait. _With a defeated groan he tucked the cigarette back into its carton and shoved it into the depths of his jacket pocket. The date had just gone from bad to worse. Since when were the French ever against smoking?

"So tell me about Kikyo." He nearly choked as the words spilled uninhibited from her lips – apparently she had no compassion whatsoever.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered out, pretending as though he hadn't heard her.

He could feel her dark eyes fixed on him in an attentive stare; she was waiting to see his reaction. She would eat it up before spewing it back out in her next scathing article. An image flashed before his eyes, the same one as before. He'd spent half a decade trying to forget. _Kikyo_…

He blamed himself for her death. He was the one who hadn't gotten to her in time. He was the one who'd screwed up royally and because of him her killer continued to roam Japan a free man. The worst part of it all was that he still had no idea who the monster was. His mind didn't want to remember anything about her. He spent most days and nights in a drunken stupor just trying to forget, but his heart wouldn't let him. He'd loved her…loved her and lost her and even after all this time he still had no idea how he was supposed to move on.

"I said, tell me about Kikyo. You know the homicide from back in 2001, the one that you couldn't solve….the one that ruined your career? I want to know about her. What attracted you to her case? Why do you find it so hard, even now, to distance yourself from it?"

Each question was like a swift punch in the gut. By the end he was left breathless and feeling slightly queasy. He glanced longingly at the red wine wishing it was something much stronger. He needed something with a bite, something that could burn away the regret that bubbled up in his chest and threatened to strangle him.

He took in one shuddering breath and then another, each time convincing himself to draw breath again. He had to escape. The restaurant suddenly felt too confined, too smothering. He needed to feel the cool air splashed across his face, needed to breathe in its scent and let it linger in his lungs. The panic rising within his chest mixed with his anxiety over having to face his demons again. It was all too much. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears as he stood up shakily from the table and muttered something incoherent about needing to use the restroom.

The girl gaped up at him. Her eyebrows knit together with superficial concern as he stumbled away from their table, but she didn't make a move to follow him. He was thankful for it. When he finally crashed through the door to the men's restroom he was relieved to see that he was alone. The bathroom was immaculate. It had marble tiled floors and individual pedestal sinks, each with an ornate mirror gracing the wall in front of it. Inuyasha hastily turned on the nearest faucet and braced his hands on either side of the sink. He felt like he was going to be sick. A cold sweat had broken out over his body and he shivered as the cool air from the bathroom washed over his damp skin.

When the water was sufficiently cold he splashed several handfuls onto his face and braced himself over the sink once more, resting his forehead against the mirror as he did so. With his eyes closed he took in several shaky breaths and ever so slowly his body began to return to normal. After a moment, he stepped back and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. He was a mess. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was ashen and his eyes looked glassy and disoriented. The blazing amber orbs danced lazily around the mirror before they caught view of something in the background. A girl? _Fuck…_

"You said you'd help me," pleaded the ethereal voice from behind him. His body shook as he locked gazes with the haunted dark eyes that'd plagued his worst nightmares. "Please! You're the only one who can protect me. Don't let them get me too!" He heard himself promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He swore to her that he would keep her safe. With a strangled gasp he spun around only to find an empty bathroom staring back at him.

"I'm fucking losing it," he muttered in astonishment as he distractedly ran his fingers through his hair. He turned to gaze at his tousled reflection once more and swiped a clammy, shaking hand over his face. _Get it together, get it together…_

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a high pitched beep cut through the silence and echoed loudly off the marble floors. Glancing down at his belt he scanned the page coming in and nodded his head. Apparently the lab finally had some results for him. About fucking time too. He'd been trying to think up some excuse for why he had to leave his "date" early but this gave him the perfect opportunity. After taking a second to re-adjust his collar and fix his hair he strutted confidently back into the restaurant and grabbed his blazer off the back of his chair.

"Where do you think you're going?" The reporter demanded, her face a mixture of anger and disappointment. He shrugged his jacked over his shoulders and pulled out the carton of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Duty calls. I've gotta head to the lab." He shot her a confident "what can you do" smirk as he tucked a fresh cigarette behind his ear.

"What about dinner?"

The food still hadn't arrived but he wasn't in any mood to wait around for it, much less eat. Opening his wallet he pulled out a few thousand yen and dropped it on the table in front of her. "Enjoy the surf and turf and the cab home on me."

Kagome's face screwed up into a bitter sneer as she glared down her nose at his money. "I don't need your fucking money. What I need is an interview," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Leaving the money on the table, he tucked his wallet back into his jacket and shrugged at her. "Whatever. Leave a really big tip then. I'm sure Pierre over there or whatever the fuck his name is would love you forever. We'll do the interview some other time. See ya around Higurashi." He exited the restaurant without a backward glance, leaving a very pissed off reporter behind him.

Kagome narrowed her eyes and scowled at the doorway as it swung closed. Alain took exactly that moment to bring their food to the table. He set down the plate of marinated yellow fin and then looked expectantly at the empty seat across from her. Kagome rolled her eyes and suggested that perhaps he might wrap up the steak to go. Looking positively offended, the disgruntled waiter begrudgingly made his way back to the kitchen.

Once alone, Kagome snatched the tape recorder off the table and shoved it into her purse. She couldn't believe the nerve of that guy. One question and he balked and ran. _Pussy_, she remarked bitterly as she eyed the empty chair across from her.

Though she had to admit he'd actually looked half decent tonight. The deep red shirt he'd been wearing set off the fiery tones in his amber eyes perfectly. She almost wondered if he'd had some help picking it out. With his face shaven and his hair combed too…he wasn't half bad. Actually, he was kind of hot…but she refused to admit to herself that she found him attractive. There was absolutely no way that it'd been his confident smirk that'd caused her heart to flutter in her chest. And there was definitely no way that booze hound could ever be considered "hot"…EVER…right?

Deciding it would be best to take her aggressions out on the helpless tuna she hastily picked up her fork and began to stab it until there were several dozen pieces small enough to eat. After a second of pensive reflection she stabbed at it some more for good measure.

_Damn that Takahashi. If he thinks I'm gonna let this slide he's stupider than I thought!_

Shoving a delicious morsel of cooked fish into her mouth, she chewed at it thoughtfully and mused over the many, many ways she was going to make the Detective's life Hell.


	4. Sweet Revenge

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 4

- Sweet Revenge -

Detective Takahashi backed through the doors of the forensics lab balancing a cup of piping hot java in one hand, black with one sugar, and a piece of street meat laden with ketchup, relish and onions in the other. He tipped his head to the youngest members of the team and made his way towards the ballistics department. Jeff, the quirky American imported specialist, met him at the door and ushered him inside.

"I thought you were supposed to be going on a date tonight?" he commented casually as he pulled out his results from earlier. The Detective shrugged noncommittally and shoved one last bite into his mouth.

"So what do you have for me?" he asked through a mouth full of hot dog. He was never one for following rules…rules of etiquette, rules such as no eating in the lab…they meant nothing to him and he did a fair good job of avoiding them. Setting his coffee down on the stainless steel work table, he shrugged out of his water logged jacket and tossed it across a nearby stool.

Jeff looked askance at the Detective's brand new dress shirt and slacks and tried to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. For someone who'd complained to anyone who would listen about what a pain in the ass that reporter was, he'd sure put a lot of effort into making himself look presentable for their "date".

"Well these are the bullets we extracted from the victim's skull during autopsy. There were two," he pointed out, holding up a small plastic evidence bag with the two deflated shards of metal inside. The Detective nodded and cocked his eyebrow as if to ask, 'where is this going?' Realizing he needed to get to the point before his associate's limited attention span began to wander, Jeff jumped up and put one of the bullets under the microscope.

"Okay so after we cleaned them off I noticed that they weren't normal bullets. They're gold plated." Both the Detective's eyebrow rose at that one. _Gold?_ He doubted even the mob would waste gold bullets on a rat like Lucky.

"Yeah I thought it was weird too so I compared the markings on these bullets to our database and I came up with a hit," he babbled on excitedly. The eager lab tech swiveled in his chair and pushed off the lab bench to come to a halt in front of the computer. After a couple of mouse clicks the screen popped up with an image of two victims – 'Lucky' and a dark haired man that the Detective knew all to well.

"These two were killed by the same gun. Same bullets and everything. What do you think it means? They're over five years apart!"

Inuyasha nodded his head dumbly and gripped the edge of the lab bench for support. His eyes remained glued to the screen and the name of victim number one – Hachiro Inokuma.

"It's a message," he finally managed to rasp out, his voice hoarse.

"A message? For who?" Jeff swirled around in his chair to fix him with an inquisitive stare. Trying to buy himself time, the Detective hastily picked up the coffee at his side and choked down several scalding gulps. He cleared his throat as it screamed in protest against the burning liquid and reached for his jacket.

"For me. He doesn't want me to forget." Without another word he pushed his way out the double glass doors of the forensics lab.

Jeff stared after him, his face awash with confusion. Curiosity got the better of him, as it does for most scientists, and he turned back to the computer. After a few clicks of the mouse the screen displayed another autopsy photo adjacent to the previous two. The vicious slashes cutting deep and diagonal across the smooth skin of the woman's chest could not detract from the certain ethereal nature of her beauty. Her hair was long and dark, her eyes large and her lips full. Her features blended together in such a way that anyone who saw this photograph would know that, despite the deathly pallor of her skin, she had been stunning in life.

Jeff's eyes narrowed at the names of the victims and then widened suddenly with surprise. A low whistle escaped his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. Pushing away from the computer, he glanced over his shoulder at the door just in time to see the Detective's leather jacket disappear into the hall. It was no wonder he'd run out of there like a bat out of Hell.

xXx

In an abandoned store house, just east of the Tsukiji Fish Market, a collection of Yakuza members met in secret. There was another hit being put out, but this time things were different. Taking out "Lucky" Akida had been good business. He was a rat and rats were a waste of resources, especially when they inconveniently landed some of the best men in the business in jail. Taking him out had been necessary – it was nothing personal, though it'd been sweet all the same for those who'd felt the brunt of his treachery. Everyone understood he was killed for being a rat which was why he'd died in the gutter like one.

For the leader of this particular gang however, their newest hit was more than just house cleaning. It wasn't about business, it was about revenge. But all anyone at the meeting really cared about was getting paid. What did they care for consciences when they had a thick wad of yen burning in their pockets? Consciences are a fickle thing - tune them out long enough and they'll eventually disappear altogether. Here they were, planning how to ruin yet another innocent life and not a single one balked at the thought. To them it was business, to him it was retribution; payback for a sin that had long since been committed but was yet to be absolved.

Flexing his fingers he spread them out before him on the table and examined his manicured fingernails beneath the dim glow of the single desk lamp. The place reeked of fish. It was dank and cold, the perfect location for such an arrangement to go down. Not even the homeless bothered to take refuge in here. Algae coated the water logged wooden beams overhead and every now and then a large fat drop of stagnant water would seep down to plop loudly against the floor or land precariously atop an unsuspecting head.

"You know why I've called you here." His voice was smooth, eloquent and refined. He spoke softly enough that silence was necessary for him to be heard but it was not out of weakness. It was a controlled softness, implying that he should never have to speak above such a quiet volume to be obeyed by his subordinates. Not one of them stirred for fear of missing a single word that slipped from his lips.

Lifting one hand from the table he motioned to the aid at his side with two curled fingers. The habitually nervous man, both lanky and awkward in stature, bowed and placed a collection of 8 x 10 photos across the front of the desk. The sweat glistening on his brow shone in the dim light and he stepped back shakily. A long fingered hand emerged from the recesses of his sleeve to push his glasses farther up his nose. The attendants stepped forward - not too close, but just far enough to catch a glimpse of their target.

"Bring the target to my private building in West Shinjuku. This is not a direct kill. Any executions will be done by me, is that understood?"

A murmur and a nod traveled in a wave of acknowledgement through the small group. Their leader narrowed his eyes at them and studied their expressions until he was certain he had their full obedience. He couldn't afford any hot shots on this one. He'd never had any problems with this particular group before, but there was a first time for everything.

"And no touching understand? This one is mine to play with." This time a nervous chuckle erupted from the group and one corner of his mouth lifted into a twisted smirk. _Yes…this one was going to be a lot of fun to play with. _

"Sir? What of the Detective. What should we do if he starts running interference?"

The Boss's eyes narrowed at the question but the smirk on his face widened into a full blown grin. The hit man who'd asked the question blinked at him stunned and cocked his head to the side as he awaited a response. With a half shrug he folded his hands in front of him and rested his fist against his lips.

"Let him sniff around like the good dog he is. It won't be any fun unless he gets to watch."

With that final comment hanging in the air, the group understood that they were dismissed and each turned heel to leave as silently as they'd arrived, piling into their black Mercedes and peeling off into the night.

The faintest glimmer of the day's first rays of sunlight slipped through the cracks in the dilapidated tin roof and illuminated the wooden floor in alternating bars of light and dark.

_Hmm…just like a cage_, he mused thoughtfully as he stood to leave. Taking a moment to button his sports coat he tugged his jacket down to straighten it and re-adjusted his tie, though it hadn't budged an inch since he'd knotted it earlier that morning.

"D-Do you think they will be successful sir?" the aid questioned hesitantly from somewhere behind him.

"I have no doubt of it."

Flashing another wicked grin he let out a small chuckle and stepped out from behind the desk. "Do cheer up Miles, this is going to be fun!" With another quick laugh he snatched his umbrella from the aid's outstretched hand and stalked towards the door.

Lingering only a moment to collect the photos he'd laid out on the desk, "Miles" felt a shiver course through his body. Something about that laugh…it felt like a murderer was dragging his fingertips down his spine and it sent cold chills shuddering throughout his body. He shook again and jerked his head to clear it before jogging after his master. If he didn't watch himself, he would be the next name on the hit list.

xXx

The precinct at 29th Division was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon. Several early morning arrests and a couple of rowdy drunks had kept things busy to start the day, but now that everyone was safely tucked away in lock up or the drunk tank, the building had settled into a pleasant lull.

The lone guard who manned the front desk idly tapped his pen against a pad of carbon paper used for filing police reports. Slouched over, he rested his cheek against his palm and allowed his eyes to drift lazily to the mini TV screens displaying feeds from the various security cameras on the premises. Nothing too exciting there – a couple guys on coffee break, a few of them playing cards in the lunch room, a bombshell walking up the front steps, just your typical day.

Sitting up with a start he blinked in surprise at the grainy image of the front stoop and watched the figure until she disappeared out of camera range. His eyes snapped up inquisitively as the front door whooshed open to let her in. Hastily clearing his throat he sat up straight and pretended to look busy as he dialled a random number into the desk phone. Holding the receiver cradled between his ear and shoulder he bowed his head and waited until she'd sidled up to the desk before starting his imaginary conversation.

"Kubo? Yeah. The drunk from last night you brought to booking is ready for release. Okay thanks."

He dropped the phone onto the receiver and looked up at her expectantly. She smiled sweetly and slowly pulled the dark sunglasses from her face to reveal a stunning pair of midnight blue eyes rimmed by a luscious set of thick, dark lashes.

"Hello there," her voice was rich and sweet.

The officer's beady gaze swept greedily up her body. It hesitated at the soft curve of her breasts before lifting the final stretch to meet her eyes. A suggestive leer tugged at the corner of his lips, which worked just fine for Kagome. They were much easier to manipulate when they were like this. Lifting one of her heeled shoes she dragged it down the back of her calf to scratch at an imaginary itch. It was purely for the benefit of the officers who had gathered behind her to get in their share of the exhibit.

"I was hoping you could help me with something." Her mouth curved upwards into a tiny innocent smile as he nodded his head readily. _This is almost too easy_. "I'm looking for Detective Takahashi. Can you tell me where I can find him?"

"What the hell are YOU doing here?" The terse reply bellowed down into the lobby from the main stairs.

Fifteen pairs of eyes turned to gawk at the Detective as he sauntered down to the lobby. His gaze remained focused on one pair of eyes in particular – a set of midnight hued orbs that were flashing mischievously in his direction. She shot a subtle smirk his way before plastering an overly warm smile on her face and stepping towards him. Her black Manolo Blahniks clicked loudly atop the linoleum floor as she skipped to meet him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Inuyasha!" she breathed excitedly. "I just _had _to come see you after our date the other night."

His expression darkened and he scowled at her, silently promising retribution. Noticing that they were being watched he glared at the throng of gawkers.

"Don't you all have something to do?" he growled.

That earned him a few snickers and knowing smiles as the group dissipated with a gentle murmur and went their separate ways. The only one left was the officer at the desk who kept his ears tuned to their conversation as he pretended to fill out a police report. A couple of officers from 39th Division hovered around the main desk, but apart from allowing their eyes to sweep appreciatively down Kagome's body they appeared aloof and disinterested in whatever may have been going on between her and the Detective.

Inuyasha grabbed the reporter roughly by the arm and she visibly winced as his fingers dug into her flesh. With a rough jerk he led her towards the front doors and back to wherever the hell she'd come from. He wasn't sure what she was trying to pull, stalking him at the precinct, but whatever game she was playing it'd gone far enough. He'd already be hearing about this for weeks. Did she have to wear such a goddamn short dress with fishnet stockings?

He barely suppressed an irritated growl as he pushed open the heavy wooden door and manoeuvred her body outside ahead of him.

_Damn she smells good…too good_.

His throat constricted as he fought the urge to sniff her. He pushed her out of arms reach so he could pull in a deep breath of polluted city air. His senses cleared instantly and the haze that'd started to take hold of his mind instantly vanished. She stumbled a few feet away from him and whirled around to fix him with a heated glare.

"Do you abuse all the women you date?" she questioned icily as she rubbed the red spot on her arm where his fingers had pressed into her creamy skin.

He scoffed and leaned against the sandstone brick wall of the building. His eyes narrowed a moment as he looked her over and then turned away to the street. He stared idly at the cars crawling by as he pressed an unlit cigarette to his lips. She just had to show up the very second he was dying for a smoke break. Because the universe didn't hate him enough.

"An apology would be nice. My arm really hurts. I think it's going to bruise," she pushed, taking a tentative step towards him. He took a deep drag in response and blew an acrid stream of blue smoke out his nostrils.

"Don't hold your breath," he muttered coolly.

A vendor selling hot dogs half a block down captured his interest. Even though the smoke in his lungs dulled his senses he could still smell the succulent, tempting aroma of cooking meat. His tongue darted out to subtly lick his lips and his stomach responded in kind with a tiny growl. He could do with a little street meat.

"I'm not letting up until you give me a proper interview," Kagome demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She stared the detective down with a determined glint in her eye.

"I'll come here every day if I have to! Just imagine what the other officers would say." Her voice was teasing but her expression was serious, leaving no question as to the intent behind her threats.

Inuyasha snorted indignantly and swivelled to casually rest his shoulder against the wall.

"Like I give a fuck what they think," he shot back, tilting his head meaningfully towards the precinct.

"_And_ just think of _all_ the wonderful pieces I could write about you in the mean time. I can almost _guarantee_ the charming law enforcement officers in there have even less tolerance for your attitude than I do. I'm sure any _number_ of them would be willing to sit down and have a little chat with me about your…_performance_."

Kagome leaned her back against the opposite wall, arched an eyebrow in challenge and waited impatiently for his response. For a moment he gaped at her, the still burning cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of his half open lips. His eyes narrowed at her and his gaze was dark, like the colour of brandy.

_How dare this bitch threaten to ruin him?_

The leather of his jacket creaked as his claws fisted and dug into the material. He could've killed her for being so flippant about it. He could feel the heat rise within his body as the ever present anger brewed and bubbled just below the surface. He seethed as he watched a self-confident smirk tug at the corner of her lips and yet he couldn't understand why a heat of another kind was building with him as well.

The moment he'd caught a glimpse of her standing in the foray of the precinct he'd been trying to classify the feeling that was slowly building within him. It hadn't dissipated, not since their date, not since five minutes ago when he saw her and certainly not now that their eyes had met. His heart was hammering hard and unruly against the walls of his chest and the breath had stalled in his lungs. Annoyed and eager to distract himself he stubbed out what was left of his cigarette against a brick and let it drop to the ground.

"Listen bitch."

He braced a hand against the wall and used the other to point an accusing finger at her. She didn't back down, but then again, he hadn't expected her to.

"I'm not fucking around here. Leave me the hell alone."

"Not until you give me my interview."

Inuyasha shifted his shoulders and casually crossed one leg over the other. Goddamn…why did these verbal sparring matches with her always turn him on?

His body tensed as he caught sight of her defiant glare. He pushed the growing need that was gnawing at the back of his mind and in more obvious areas down, stubbornly refusing to accept that the twit reporter could ever be anything more than a nuisance.

He opened his mouth to unleash a bevy of curses at her when he was interrupted by a familiar and entirely unwelcome voice.

"Hey mutt! Still mangy I see!"

Inuyasha turned uneasily to see his rival from the 39th Division saunter up the steps two at a time. He paused on the landing and shot him a cocky smile. Hands eased casually into his pockets, Kouga gave him a once over before subtly shaking his head and giving him a "you never change" sort of look.

Never one to miss an opportunity when it presented itself, and seeing the way Inuyasha tensed when this new guy appeared, Kagome coughed lightly to draw attention to herself. As if on cue the dark haired intruder turned towards her and gave her a casual once over. When his eyes came to rest on her face he gave her a warm, hearty smile. He extended a hand towards her.

"Please forgive my rudeness Miss?"

"Higurashi," Kagome offered, shaking his hand. "But please, call me Kagome."

He nodded appreciatively, his dark eyes brightening as he continued to hold onto her hand, long after he'd finished shaking it. Fixing her with a sincere gaze he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"Kagome…that's a beautiful name. It suits you perfectly. I'm Kouga."

_Hmm. Easy on the eyes and with the words_, she mused as she smiled up at him shyly. Like hell she was that easy but she'd play nice for now. At least until she knew what she could get out of him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Inuyasha demanded, his voice sounding more on edge than normal when he rudely interrupted their their greeting.

Inuyasha grit his teeth as he watched the bastard send Kagome a knowing smile and ground them even harder when she returned it, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with him? What did he care if she fucked him? Maybe then she'd piss off and chase Kouga's tail for a story instead of his. Still, the thought didn't sit easy with him.

"Not that it's any of your business mutt, but I'm here to discuss the Akita case. You know the body straddled both our divisions. I'm here to clean up the bureaucratic mess and make sure the evidence gets into the right hands."

"You mean the hands of 39th Division," Inuyasha scoffed. Kouga shrugged one shoulder up casually.

"Well we have a habit of solving cases over at 39th…can't say the same for here though."

That last shot was all the excuse Inuyasha needed to let his anger boil over. He stepped forward and got into Kouga's face with his fist in his jacket and his claws flexed .

"Say that again you bastard and I promise it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Kouga was tempted to retaliate but realized that there were better ways to get even with the detective. He turned to Kagome, who'd been watching the entire scene play out with mild interest, and gave her a placating smile.

She'd been trying to decipher exactly how these two knew each other and the source of their rivalry. There was no way it was purely professional. She glanced warily at the detective's flexed claws and heaving chest and took a hesitant step backwards. Kouga pried his jacket out of Inuyasha's claws and produced a business card seemingly out of thin air. He held it out to her with a smile.

"I'd love to take you to dinner some time, if you're not too busy," he offered casually.

Kagome took the card from him with a tiny bow and slipped it into her purse. She hesitated for only the briefest of seconds before smiling and nodding her head in agreement. "Dinner sounds wonderful."

Snatching up her hand once more, Kouga placed another delicate kiss against her knuckles. Her hand lingered in his for a moment before he dropped it gently to her side. Easing both hands back into his pockets he shot her a charming smile before he disappeared into the building.

Kagome watched for a moment through the glass panels in the door as her new mystery man disappeared into the crowd of uniforms.

"Tomorrow."

Inuyasha's gravelly voice cut into her thoughts. She roused herself, turning her head to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"We'll do the goddamn interview tomorrow," he bit out, his tone harsh.

Kagome narrowed her eyes in confusion at his sudden change in mood. Five minutes ago he'd been dead set against the interview. _All this because another detective asked to take me out to dinner?_ _Interesting_. She stored that particular revelation away for later examination. She barely knew the man and already there were so many different levels to his character.

"Why the change of heart?" she questioned curiously, her tone prying. He didn't look at her as he responded.

"Because if I don't tell you, that bastard will and he'll get it all wrong. I might as well tell you the story and tell it right the first time. Saves me a lot of hassle in the end is all."

Kagome nodded thoughtfully. So he was seeing logic at last! Apparently he wasn't a complete idiot after all. With a satisfied smile she began to make her way down the stairs. She was surprised when the detective came up alongside her, hands eased casually in his pockets.

"We'll do it at the pizzeria down the road from your news building."

It wasn't a question. Apparently it was there or nowhere. Obviously fine dining wasn't his style. Kagome hid her smile and nodded her head in agreement.

"Sure. Whatever works for you."

She turned her head to make one last snarky comment about him not pussying out this time around, but found herself falling face first towards the stone steps instead. Apparently walking in five inch heels took a great deal of concentration and grace, things she lacked at the most inopportune times.

She rammed her eyes shut and winced as she put her hands out to brace her fall, mildly thinking that this particular fall would hurt in more ways than one. Did he HAVE to be walking right next to her?

The breath was forced out of her lungs as a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She slowly opened her eyes one after the other and blinked curiously at the ground hovering a couple feet below her. Eyes widening in surprise to match the perfect "O" of her mouth, she turned to face the detective. He held her with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other against her back for support. With a small grunt he set her back on her feet. His hands lingered where they were before moving to grab hold of her shoulders and steady her.

Kagome swallowed at the burning warmth of his touch through the thin material of her dress. A bevy of goose bumps erupted along her arms but she brushed them off as nothing more than shock.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice strained but sincere. Her eyes locked with the liquid amber orbs that hovered inches away from her. He was closer than they'd ever been before. _Close enough to touch…close enough to kiss…No! What the hell am I thinking? _

Beyond all that male posturing she had the sneaking suspicion there was a half decent man hiding beneath his tough as nails exterior. Her tongue darted out to nervously lick her lips. His eyes continued to hold hers prisoner, the expression in them dark and unreadable. Finally he removed his hands from her shoulders and took a step back, giving them both some much needed breathing room.

"Whatever."

_Well that was good while it lasted_. In a millisecond he'd somehow reverted back to his regular asshole self. But she couldn't avoid the fact that that "asshole" had just rescued her from a rather nasty and embarrassing fall.

_I guess he's not all bad._ After several more carefully planted and monitored steps down the precinct stairs, Kagome found herself standing alone on the sidewalk. Once she'd reached the last step without incident, the detective had turned heel and marched straight for the hot dog vendor. She caught herself watching the proud, sturdy gait of his retreating figure.

_You are definitely not falling for him_, she reminded herself.

Pursing her lips she scanned the busy street and stepped off the curb to hail a cab.

So…tomorrow evening they would finally get down to business. Her stomach churned with a flurry of butterflies as she opened the door of the cab that coasted to a stop beside her. Slipping inside she demanded to be taken to the Asahi Shimbun building and slammed the door shut behind her.


	5. A Dangerous Encounter Part 1

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 5

- A Dangerous Encounter (Part 1) -

The lines of text on the computer screen blurred and floated into one another until they became one solid mass of text. Kagome blinked her eyes wide to clear her vision. When that failed, she pushed her creaky office chair back from her desk with a defeated sigh and leaned her head back against the worn leather. Closing her eyes she rubbed at them gently with her fingertips to rejuvenate them, or at least bring enough life back so she wasn't seeing double. The muted hum of computer monitors, ringing telephones and hushed conversations of the Asahi Shimbun newsroom lulled her into a daze and she gratefully took a moment to relax.

She'd been pouring over articles all afternoon and was nearly drowning in a pile of newspaper clippings and printouts. She couldn't understand her fascination with this particular case. It wasn't the first murder she'd ever heard of. She didn't even know the victim or anything about her life apart from what she'd read in the papers, but she continued to be drawn to her. Her eyes drifted back to the computer screen and focused on the brightly coloured image set alongside yet another news article about the victim. She was happy; her face was smiling, her eyes were bright, she looked like a woman with a future and a purpose to her life. Like a memory frozen in time her picture was a sad reminder of a life that had been cut too short.

Kikyo…her story, her life, everything about her…it was almost a compulsion – she just had to know. That was why the Detective had piqued her interest. When the case first broke half a decade earlier she'd still been in college. She remembered being riveted to the television screen as the news flashed their cover story for the night – another young woman tragically murdered in her own home. Was no place safe anymore? She should've been studying for a chemistry exam but for some elusive reason she couldn't bear to pull her eyes from the screen. She'd stayed up the rest of the night scanning the channels for updates and recaps.

Kikyo Inokuma. She'd only been nineteen when she'd died. Had she lived they'd be the same age now. Their striking resemblance to one another didn't escape Kagome either, but her fascination with the dead girl went far beyond any outward similarities. She felt for her on a personal level, perhaps more than she should have given the fact that she was a complete stranger. She'd spent years following up on the case only to find out that it'd gone cold. No leads, no suspects, no evidence except the body. It was tragic really, that the system had utterly failed one so young. She'd barely had time to enjoy her life before it was taken from her.

The Detective was the key, the missing link. He knew the case better than anyone. He understood its nuances and idiosyncrasies in the same way one knows the plains and valleys of their lover's body. If anyone could help fit the pieces together it was him. Kagome needed to know what he knew, only then would her driving curiosity be satisfied. She had a feeling the Detective needed closure as well. She also got the distinct impression he wasn't the type who would take well to the idea of working with a partner.

Kagome leaned forward, the leather of the chair creaking with her movements, and extended one finger to press it against the computer screen. She ran it over the dead girl's face, a troubled frown creasing her forehead.

"Don't give up. We'll find him," she whispered in a low voice, only belatedly realizing that she must've looked completely nuts. Shifting her eyes nervously to the desks in her vicinity she noted, with a breath of relief, that apparently no one else had witnessed her brief slip into insanity.

The shrill cry of a cell phone pierced the air, smashing the comfortable lull of office white noise. With her heart racing she flashed an annoyed glare down at her purse. She could see the screen of her cell phone inside, the electric blue light of its screen winking at her. With an irritated huff she snatched the bag off the floor and pulled out the device, simultaneously flicking the hand set open and flipping her hair over her shoulder in one graceful move.

"Yes?"

"Higurashi! Are you waiting for the second coming or what? Get your ass out here!" came the barked response from the other end. The lines of annoyance that had settled around her mouth softened as she opened it in a look of stunned confusion. How the hell had he gotten her number? Oh right…he was a cop…he probably knew everything about her from her social insurance number to what part she played in her 5th grade production of the "Sound of Music." She was still convinced she was the best damn Liesl von Trapp that school had ever seen.

"Takahashi?"

"Who else?" he snarled.

She could clearly envision the way his dark gaze would be glowering at her in annoyance if he were there. Her eyes dropped to the clock on the bottom right hand corner of her computer screen and she let out a strangled gasp. _SHIT!_ She was already fifteen minutes late for their meeting! Reluctant to admit she'd screwed up she cleared her throat and tried to sound cool and collected.

"Well you might as well come up. I need to drop something off at the Editor's office on the 12th floor before we head out." Like hell she was going to apologize. Kagome gnawed at her bottom lip and silently cursed her own stupidity. Great…just fucking great. She couldn't very well bust his balls for being an incompetent ass when she could barely keep her own mind straight. First the near-tumble down the stairs, now this….she was really losing her touch.

"Keh, whatever," was all she heard before the line went dead. Her phone snapped shut and she let it slip listlessly from her fingers into her purse.

Easing back against her chair with a tired sigh she stared thoughtfully at the computer screen. Why should she give a damn what he thought? She didn't understand why she let herself be so affected by him. He was a wash up, a nobody, and a complete asshole to boot. Even still…she couldn't ignore the annoying fact that the more she saw of him the more she found herself _wanting_ to see him.

"This is stupid," she muttered to herself as she bent her head and began digging through the contents of her bag. Pursing her lips she scanned the array of make up, notepads, pens, and loose change until she found what she'd been searching for. Pulling out her compact mirror she snapped it open and glanced sceptically at her reflection.

_Seriously, seriously, stupid. Who cares what you look like? _

Ignoring her nagging voice of inner reason she frowned at the haphazard state of her ebony hair and the way her make up from the morning had worn off. Her toffee coloured eyes dropped distractedly back down into the leather purse sitting open atop her desk. After a moment of hesitation her hand delved into its depths once more and emerged triumphant with a tube of lipstick. Rolling her eyes at herself she twisted it open and hastily applied the berry hued stain to her lips.

_It's like I'm back in high school_, she mused cynically. _Only the boys aren't as nice, but then again…neither am I_.

Smoothing her lips together she tossed the mirror and lipstick back in the bag, twisted her hair up into a casual bun at the nape of her neck and pinched some colour into her cheeks for good measure. It wasn't perfect but it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

Right on cue, she glanced up to see the Detective step through the glass double doors of the news room. He glanced around the myriad of desks, his gaze distant until he caught sight of her. An unexpected electric shiver raced down her spine and her heart jump in her chest as their gazes connected across the room. She blinked in surprise and he hastily averted his gaze.

Kagome lowered her head and tried to catch her breath as she collected her various articles and file folders together for the Editor to review. _What was that just now?_ His gaze had been so intense…it was like he'd looked straight into her soul.

She watched him advancing toward her from beneath her lashes and distractedly shuffled papers from one side of her desk to the other. The midnight blue v-neck sweater he wore clung to his torso, defining the hard muscles of his otherwise trim frame. The worn out pair of relaxed fitting jeans he had on would've given the impression of casualness were it not for the fedora seated atop his head. The taupe coloured Dick Tracy style hat had a wide brim that did an excellent job of shading his eyes from view.

Kagome cynically thought that it more than likely also hid the fact that he hadn't bathed at any point in the past few weeks. He constantly reeked of booze and cigarettes. Even if he showered five times a day she doubted the smell would ever come out.

_What's with the hat anyways?_ she wondered suddenly. When she thought about it she realized that she'd never seen him take it off. _Whatever_, she cut her thoughts off sharply, borrowing a line from the Detective's limited vocabulary. _It's just a hat._

Zipping her purse closed she slung it easily over her shoulder and simultaneously slipped her stocking clad feet into the pair of black heels hiding beneath her desk. She stood up just as the Detective reached her desk and gave him a thin, tight-lipped smile. He cocked an eyebrow at her as if to ask 'ready?' Feeling a flush rise to her cheeks as his eyes studied her features, Kagome hastily side-stepped him and headed towards the elevator.

"This will just take a minute!" she promised over her shoulder.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes as he listened to the rhythmic click-click of her heels against the tiled floors. _Keh. Take a minute my ass!_

He'd already wasted fifteen minutes standing in the lobby like a moron waiting for her and wasn't too keen on having to do any more of it. His stomach grumbled, loudly demanding to be fed. Knitting his brows together the Detective shot his gut a warning glare before falling in step behind the reporter.

As they walked towards the row of elevators at the end of the news room he allowed his gaze to unabashedly skim over the delicate curve of her hips. He curvy figure was accentuated by the black knee-length skirt that hugged her body in all the right places. Considering how covered up she was compared to the last time they'd met, he couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

An unexpected vision passed though his mind and brought him up short. The two of them…alone…in the elevator. One minute they're mum, the sexual tension resonating between them and the next he's pushing her against the wall, hungrily devouring those delicate ruby lips to the sounds of her broken moans. That damn skirt would be gone, on the floor in pieces with one swipe of his claws…

Inuyasha blinked rapidly and swallowed hard as he came back to himself. _Where the hell did that come from?_

He glanced up to see her waited impatiently next to the elevator with her hand holding the doors open. He glowered at her and shoved his hands into his pockets as he stepped across the threshold. She stepped in after him, the click of her heels dying away as they reached the carpeted floor.

With a tiny sound she cleared her throat and reached across him to press the number 12 button, which lit up beneath her ruby glazed fingertip. Her perfume lingered after she'd retreated to her own side of the elevator and he found himself hungrily pulling the scent of it in.

Shifting his shoulders in his jacket he tilted his head up to watch the numbers count up to their destination.

_3…4…5…_

He'd been on edge all day and it had nothing to do with feeling hung over. An overwhelming sense of panic had gripped him in the middle of the night while he slept, wrenching him from his dreams like an ice cold bucket of water. He'd woken up shaking, with cold chills shivering across his body. Even now he couldn't explain it. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that. The early hours before dawn were spent drinking cup after cup of black coffee while he watched the sun rise over the horizon.

Sitting casually across his apartment balcony, with one leg hanging precariously over the edge and the other tucked into his chest, he'd taken the time to appreciate the sun rise. It was easy to forget how beautiful it could be to watch the impenetrable black of the night sky fade into mauve, bleed to red and then lighten to a brilliant orange before the entire sky turned golden. The sun rose triumphantly, unfailingly, over the horizon, bringing with it a new day and a new start.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been awake to see the sun rise. The feeling of unease, the near panicked anxiety that'd awoken him had haunted him throughout the day. He watched the girl suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. Maybe she was the one throwing his senses out of whack? He studied her in silence for a moment as the dim chime of the bell announced their assent. The file folders were clutched tight to her chest and her eyes were downcast as she tried to ignore the heavy, awkward silence between them.

_6…7…8…_

He couldn't deny the allure of her dark expressive eyes, nor the way she constantly challenged him. Not too many women could hold their own against his razor sharp tongue. She had a great body too. If he was honest with himself he had to admit he wouldn't have minded seeing more of it, but there was more to it than that. He found himself asking the same question over and over again as errant thoughts of her invaded his mind – W_hat am I getting myself in to?_

It struck him as more than a little odd how much she resembled _her_. It'd been five years and yet the pain of her loss was still so fresh, the guilt still unrequited. He hadn't protected her…he'd failed her and she'd paid for it with her life. He couldn't protect anyone which was why he worked homicide. Dead people didn't need protecting…they were already gone. No guilt in that.

_9…10…11_

In a split second, in that very moment before the elevator chimed again and they stepped out onto the twelfth floor, the cold unforgiving panic was back. His instincts were telling him to get out, but his mind reminded him logically that he had nowhere to go. Reaching out for support he grabbed tightly to the brass railing that lined the elevator.

One quick glance at the girl told him she didn't suspect a thing. Was he losing his mind? He briefly toyed with that idea. Perhaps his years of alcoholism had finally caught up with him? In an instant he knew with a sinking sense of foreboding that he was most definitely wrong. He heard it - the deep throaty rumble that came up from the bowels of the earth…soft at first and then slowly louder until it resounded like a deafening roar in his ears.

"Shit…" the curse slipped from his lips before he had a chance to silence it. Glancing up at the lit numbers over their heads he noticed anxiously that they seemed to be frozen at eleven.

Kagome looked over at the Detective, surprised by his sudden outburst. Seeing his eyes widen as they looked at the panel overhead she followed his gaze, her brow creasing with lines of confusion. Then she understood…they both understood the moment the elevator came to a screeching halt and went pitch black.

The unrelenting tremors of the earth rattled them in their tiny prison and they were powerless to do anything but wait. The quake lasted maybe two minutes at most, but each second brought a new wave of panic and fear washing over them. All it would take was one faulty brake for them to plunge to their deaths.

That unspoken thought hung heavily in the air between them as they listened anxiously to the creak and grind of metal upon metal above them. The elevator swayed to and fro in a gentle rocking rhythm, like the pendulum of an ancient grandfather clock. When at last the rumbles subsided and the elevator slowly became stationary again, its occupants let out a unanimous sigh of relief.

Kagome brought a trembling hand to cover her lips and felt her knees go weak. She'd been in several earthquakes before, they were nothing new, but she'd never had the unfortunate experience of being stuck in an elevator during one. She heard horror stories all the time on the news of innocent people plunging to their deaths during a quake because they had the bad luck of stepping into an elevator just beforehand. At twelve stories up they didn't stand a chance.

With the room still pitch dark Inuyasha couldn't see the girl but he could smell her – her fear, her panic, her tears…they hung thick in the air and clouded his senses, adding to his already nagging anxiety. He wondered absently if he should try to comfort her but quickly decided against it. She was a big girl, she could handle herself. He didn't have the patience to coddle her like a child.

"You okay?" he demanded gruffly into the pitch black expanse. Even with his enhanced vision he could barely make out the faint outline of her body against the wall. Didn't these damn things have emergency lights? He felt her nod and her voice wavered only slightly as she responded with a distant sounding "Yeah…"

With a flicker and a faint hum the emergency light finally sputtered to life, filling the elevator with a dim, orange hued glow. Its occupants glanced hesitantly at one another, only to reassure themselves that they weren't alone, before hastily looking away again. They stood in pensive silence for several tense moments, waiting for something to happen. The only problem was nothing happened. The elevator didn't move, the emergency call button that Kagome pressed several times out of frustration appeared not to work, and the lights remained dim.

Kagome braved a glance at her travelling companion out of the corner of her eye and noticed him leaning casually up against the wall, hands eased into his pockets. How could he look so calm? Didn't he realize the danger they were in? At any moment the cables above them could snap and send them plummeting twelve stories to their deaths!

With a stifled 'hmph', she slid her back down the wall until her backside rested against the plush carpet. Letting out a soft sigh she slapped her folders down onto the floor and straightened her legs out in front of her. If they were in for a long wait she figured she might as well get comfortable. The Detective remained standing for a few moments longer until he too resigned himself to the floor. He ignored her completely and kept his eyes glued to the number panel above their heads.

"Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?" she asked after a few moments and fanned herself gently with a folder from her pile on the floor. Her voice sounded nasally and high pitched in the small confines of the elevator and she cringed at the sound of it. It could've just been a result of the stress of their current situation, but she felt her body temperature rising as well. A thin film of sweat had broken out along her hairline, forcing her to tilt her head forward so she could fan warm air against her neck in earnest.

The Detective grunted out a non-committal response but shirked off his jacket just the same and tossed it against the opposing wall. Leaning back he pulled one knee up to his chest and rested his arm casually over top. Using his other hand he pushed the brim of his had down low over his eyes and rested his head against the wall.

Kagome openly glared at him and quickened the pace of her make-shift fan. _Seriously? SERIOUSLY? He's going to sleep? We're stuck in an elevator and who knows for how long and he's going to try and SLEEP? Like Hell he is!_

"Well since we won't be making it to our lunch date, we might as well conduct our little interview here," she began, her eyes pinning him down with a determined glare.

Well that got his attention. Using the tip of his index finger he pushed the brim of his hat upwards to fix her with an unimpressed look. For a moment she was certain he was going to pull it right back down and return to his little cat nap, but to her surprise he pushed himself upright.

"On one condition," he bargained, his eyes flashing with a sense of determination. His gaze dropped meaningfully to the purse at her side and she glanced down at her bag confused. He tilted his head towards it and lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"Do you got any food in that thing?"


	6. A Dangerous Encounter Part 2

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 6

- A Dangerous Encounter (Part 2) -

The fluorescent light hummed loudly overhead, somewhat reminiscent of an electric bug zapper - the kind found dangling from the eaves of every trailer home in the American midwest. The only other sound to break the perfectly maintained silence was the loud crunching of the Detective's jaws as he devoured the slightly bruised, but otherwise perfectly edible, apple that'd been retrieved from Kagome's purse. He paused only long enough to swallow before taking another massive bite, shearing off a quarter of the fruit.

Kagome watched him eat in silence, perfectly aware that he wouldn't speak a word until he'd finished. After a few minutes he swallowed the last of the apple, licked his lips, tossed the core against the far wall and let out a loud, satisfied belch.

"So…," she began with a half-hearted attempt to veil her disgust at his lack of propriety, "tell me about her."

"Who?" he shot back flippantly. Kagome narrowed her eyes.

"Kikyo of course! I want to know why you're so affected by her case. You must handle dozens of murders a year," she reasoned, "so why are you so focused on this one?"

"Ah."

The Detective leaned back against the wall and stared pensively at the ceiling. For a long while he said nothing, just stared unblinking into space. Kagome waited patiently for several minutes, thinking that perhaps he was just trying to collect his thoughts. After what felt like an eternity of silence she realized that he had no intention of saying anything at all.

_So that's how this is going to be huh?_ she thought bitterly. And here she'd given the bastard her last apple too. Putting her hands on her hips, she fixed him with a dark glare and opened her mouth to let him have it. Infuriatingly, he beat her to the punch.

"I don't know."

He wasn't trying to be facetious; it was the most honest answer he could give her. He lowered his gaze to meet hers and tried to repress the smug smile tugging at his lips. She looked purely comical, with her mouth hanging open and her finger extended in the air towards him. If he didn't know better he'd have thought she was on pause - or mute considering she hadn't made a sound.

Deciding to give her a break, and realizing that it would probably do him some good to get everything off his chest, he continued. "Six years ago I got a case thrown at me. I was fresh up from the streets and really wanted to prove myself, ya know? So I dove right in. Thought I could save the goddamn world…"

His tone was that of someone who'd charged head first into a brick wall called reality and survived with a broken, jaded spirit that longed for simpler times and uncomplicated days. "The vic's name was Hachiro Inokuma. He owed money to some loan sharks…had a bit of a gambling problem…so they came after him. Only they didn't kill him. They got him to kill some other guy to settle his debt. Problem was, the guy he killed was the son of some big yakuza boss."

Realizing that a digression was probably in order, Inuyasha pushed up the brim of his hat and leaned forward. Using his hands for emphasis, he attempted to explain the intricacies of the yakuza's code of conduct. "When you go after the Boss's family everything gets personal. That's just the way it works in their world. But the poor bastard didn't know he was taking out a Boss's kid. So he did what he was told and found himself with a gold plated .38 in his skull a few weeks later."

He paused again, just to be sure she was following along (he didn't want to answer any of her annoying questions about it later) and when she nodded her head understandingly he settled back against the wall and slipped back into his story.

"To me this was just another case. As far as I knew he didn't have any family or nothin' so it was a case closed sort of deal. Generally when we know it's the mob we sort of leave it alone. They take care of each other and keep the streets clear of rowdy thugs. It's like an unwritten understanding between us and them. It sounds shady but that's just the way it works around here…it's the way things have always been."

"So here I'm thinking the Inokuma case is a done deal. I'm all set to move on to my next order of business when this broad walks into my office."

"Kikyo?" Kagome interjected and he nodded his head.

"Yeah. Said her name was Kikyo and she'd heard I was working her father's case. So I start asking where she's been since Inokuma's records don't say anything about him having a daughter. That's when she tells me that she's his _illegitimate_ daughter. Turns out she lived with her mother up in Hokkaido her whole life."

"Now you gotta understand gang mentality," he said pointedly, digressing from his original train of thought once more. "It's an eye for an eye sort of world. If they found out Inokuma had a daughter they'd kill her too just on principle. So I had to protect her."

Kagome raised an eyebrow at that. "Did you…," she cut in but stopped herself short when the Detective blanched and averted her gaze. He nervously picked at trace amounts of lint on his sweater and kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"It wasn't like that," he muttered with little conviction. "She needed someone to protect her so I did. I promised her I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"But there was something more between you two, wasn't there? Doesn't that kind of go against the rules?" Her instincts as a reporter were finally beginning to kick in. She felt a twinge of guilt at consciously digging for more dirt, considering he was practically bearing his soul to her, but she couldn't help it. She just had to know.

The Detective rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. "Yes! Of _course_ it's against the rules." He shot her a look as if to say 'any idiot would know that.' "We're never supposed to get involved with vics or their immediate family members. _Company policy_."

He emphasized what he thought of that particular policy with a flippant wave of his hand. "But I'm not a damn robot. I know a beautiful girl when I see one. What man wouldn't be tempted by her? Especially when she was practically begging me to come over to her place and keep her company, if you know what I mean."

_Sure, whatever you say Stud_, Kagome remarked dryly. Sometimes his arrogance was just a bit much. "So you fucked her. What happened next?"

The Detective blinked in surprise. He was giving her a look that said he couldn't fathom a word like that passing across her lips. Kagome raised her eyebrows at him expectantly and his eyes dropped to the floor once more. With his head lowered, the brim of his hat shadowed his face and she found herself wishing she could see his eyes.

She wanted to know what he was thinking. He was so guarded most of the time that she never got a chance to see this side of him - the more human side. She empathized with his situation - it had to be hard talking about it. She'd been so unfortunate…the poor thing…just in the wrong place at the wrong time and unlucky enough to have a dead beat for a father. It was easy to see how he could've gotten mixed up with her. Only a senseless drone could hear that kind of story and not want to do everything in their power to protect her.

The air between them grew heavy with silence. Kagome watched the Detective's chest heave slightly as it pulled in a breath of stale air. It expanded and strained against the confines of his sweater and she wondered absently how long it would be before he took it off. It was getting rather hot inside their tiny prison. She could feel her own shirt beginning to mould to her like a second skin. Picking at the magenta silk, she pulled it away from her body and directed some air against her heated skin with the makeshift fan. The Detective's sudden interjection made her head snap up.

"They got her. I promised her I'd take care of her. I promised I'd protect her from them and they got to her. _Bastards_!"

He clenched his hand into an angry fist and rammed it hard against the carpeted floor. He pounded it over and over again, the shockwaves reverberating through the floor, until his anger had subsided. Breathing heavily, he raised his head and fixed her with a troubled stare.

It was obvious he blamed himself for her death, even though there was nothing he could've done to prevent it. What could he have done apart from single-handedly taking down every yakuza gang in Tokyo? Once they figured out who she was her time was limited no matter where she went. The yakuza had their ways of dealing with the people who needed to be dealt with. She'd written enough articles on them to know that they weren't the kind of people you get tangled up with.

"So you've been spending the last five years trying to figure out which one of them did it?" she asked tentatively. Her tone was laced with sympathy.

He nodded but remained mute. He didn't want to talk anymore. He just wanted to sit and let his thoughts wash over him like waves crashing against the shore.

"I'm sorry..."

He looked up at that. The girl was staring at the floor, tracing the tiny swirled design of the carpet with her fingertip. She glanced up at him hesitantly from beneath her lashes then quickly dropped her gaze away.

"Nevermind…just…I'm sorry."

He grunted a response, not too sure what to make of her. Where had the firecracker journalist gone? The one who liked to bust his balls for anything and everything? He'd expected her to come out in full swing and give him shit for not doing his job, or for getting involved with Kikyo in the first place. Hell, if he'd done his job she'd still be alive.

He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself at first, but he realized now that he'd fallen hard for Kikyo. She'd entranced him from the moment she'd walked into his office. With long dark hair, legs for days and those sultry eyes of hers…he hadn't been able to resist the temptation. He was half convinced that whoever had put out the hit on her had done it just to torment him. Everyone on the street knew he was a rookie. It would've been just like the yakuza to kill her right under his nose - a friendly reminder of who ruled the streets of Tokyo. It sure as shit wasn't 29th Division.

A tremor unexpectedly shook the elevator just then, rattling them in their metal prison. It died off quickly, with a few lingering rumbles, but that minor shake had been enough of a shock to increase the tension in the air tenfold. Inuyasha took in the reporter's tense body and the way her hand was wrapped so tightly around the brass bar above her head that her knuckles showed white beneath her skin. The smell of her fear spiked with each subsequent after shock and though its bitter tang clung heavily to the back of his throat, he found it strangely exciting.

Fear was similar to arousal in so many ways he was certain his brain sometimes got the two confused. The heart was always the first to react; jolted into a break neck rhythm by a shot of adrenaline coursing through the bloodstream. Encouraged by the frantic pace of the heart the lungs would gasp for oxygen, much more than they needed. Next the pupils would dilate, becoming large dark pools of colour. With fear an icy cold sweat clung to the skin as well, the kind that makes you shiver from the inside out. With lust, the sweat was hot and sticky; it smelled as sweet as it tasted and always left you craving more.

Realizing that his eyes had lingered for far too long on the way the damp silk of this reporter's shirt clung shamelessly to her pronounced curves, the Detective shook his head and reluctantly averted his gaze. He subtly drew a knee into his chest to hide the effect his wandering eye had had on the more sensitive parts of his anatomy. Resting his head back against the wall he debated whether to go to sleep or not. It might be hours before they were rescued, or it could be a matter of minutes. He briefly considered the idea of staying awake and talking to the girl, but quickly decided against it. He'd gone far enough down memory lane as it was and he wasn't eager for another trip.

As his eyes slowly drifted closed he thought to himself that he didn't need anyone else complicating his life. Much less a nosy, irritating, whiney, no good…

"Takahashi?"

Her voice was barely a whisper and the sound forced his eyes open. The amber orbs shifted in her direction and he noticed that she was nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you…do you think we're going to get out of here? I mean it's been a while now and no one's found us yet-" Cutting herself off, she swallowed hard and looked at him imploringly for some kind of reassurance.

Inuyasha's face fell as he studied the troubled expression on hers. She was genuinely scared. The scent of fear was all over her and it irritated him. He liked her a whole lot better when she was being her regular annoying self, and that wasn't saying much. At least then he didn't have to care that she was trembling all over, or notice the fact that there were tears hovering in her eyes.

With an irritated sound he shrugged and looked away. "Of course we're gonna get out of here. Don't you women have any patience?"

He closed his eyes with every intention of finally taking a nap, but a sudden storm of anxious fear tore through his gut. He barely had enough time to take a breath before the elevator was plunged into darkness once more. A bone jarring quake, stronger than the first, rocked the Asahi Shimbun building. His overly sensitive ears, hidden beneath the confines of his hat, caught the disturbing groan and creak of the wires and joints holding them precariously in place between the eleventh and twelfth floors. His lungs constricted as he focused on the sound and his hands balled into anxious fists at his sides.

_If those wires go… _

The loud twang of snapping metal shattered the dead air of the elevator. He barely had time to breathe a curse before his stomach dropped and they were hurtling eleven stories downwards. The emergency breaks screeched hard and long overhead as they rubbed against the slippery cable in a vain attempt to halt the elevator's nasty decent. Inuyasha's ears flattened against his head and he rammed his hands overtop of them in an effort to block out the high pitched squeals and whines from above.

Above the horrific sound of the metal cables grinding against the failing brakes he could hear another that stressed him even more - the reporter's screams. He'd never heard anything more disturbing in his life. She screamed like she knew she was going to die. He realized that in all likelihood they probably would die within seconds and he should probably be screaming too, but by the time that thought crossed his mind the elevator had come to a sudden, jerking halt. He was thrown roughly against the floor and remarked to himself on impact that it certainly felt like there was very little padding beneath the oriental style carpet.

With a groan he pushed his body upright and rested back on his knees. The elevator had gone deathly quiet. Thankfully the girl had stopped screaming, but now she wasn't making any sound at all. No whimpers, no annoying questions, no tears…nothing.

"You okay?" he asked tentatively, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. They were still ringing from the earlier onslaught and he strained them now to hear through the sudden, impenetrable silence.

As he listened for any sound from the reporter, his golden eyes panned the never ending black expanse before him in search of her body. He was certain it was darker now that it'd been when the power first went out. He glared upwards with annoyance at the ceiling lights and cursed them for not turning back on. Like hell he was going to grope his way around in the dark!

"Hey! Higurashi! I asked if you're alright."

Again no response. The air around him felt thick and heavy, weighed down by tense anticipation. Anxiety crawled slowly up his spine, the sensation increasing with every passing moment of silence that followed. She was okay wasn't she? It's not like that kind of fall could've killed her or anything…could it?

"Higurashi?"

His voice was softer when tentatively called out to her for the third time. By now his palms were pressed flat against the carpet, his body ready to crawl through the dark towards her just to be sure. When she still didn't respond he muttered a few choice curses beneath his breath and slowly moved in her general direction.

"You better be dead or dying for making me grope my way through the dark on all fours like some dog," he muttered bitterly as he placed one palm and then one knee in front of the other.

As he drew closer to where he thought she'd be, the scent of her perfume grew strong in his nose. He pulled it in cautiously, searching for the tell-tale scent of death, but it was nowhere to be found. He sighed with relief. Wait…relief? The broad had certainly thrown him for one hell of a mind fuck. One minute he was thinking of ways to get her to shut up, and the next he was fighting off the fear tickling at the base of his skull at the thought she might be dead.

_Fuck Takahashi! Get it together!_

Suddenly feeling suffocated by the heat he sat back on his haunches, pulled his heavy sweater over his head and slapped it down against the floor. A breath of cool air washed over his skin as he pulled his damp t-shirt away from his body. How the hell had it gotten so damn hot anyway? Frowning, he crawled two more paces and tentatively dragged his hand across the carpet in front of him. Something silky and solid brushed against his fingertips and he moved closer.

"Kagome…" Her given name slipped easily from his lips but went entirely unnoticed by either of them. He was too preoccupied with figuring out why she hadn't woken up yet to care about what his words meant and she was too unconscious to even notice.

With the same delicate touch one would use with an infant, he slipped his fingers over what he soon realized was her waist. Following the curve of her body, his hand eventually found its way to her face where it grazed the baby soft skin of her cheeks in a feather light caress. His fingers followed the line of her jaw down, until they found her lips in the dark and hovered over them. Her warm breath cascaded across his skin in short, rhythmic bursts and he nodded to himself with a sense of satisfaction.

So she was breathing, that was something at least. Had the fall knocked her unconscious then? Or maybe she'd just passed out from the fear. He'd seen it happen before with victims' family members. They'd often get so overwhelmed by everything that they just blacked out. His mouth twisted into a frown at the realization that she could also be seriously hurt.

Resting his weight on his knees he leaned forward and snaked his fingers into her hair. He didn't smell blood, but it was better to be safe than sorry in these types of situations. Pulling loose the knot of hair at the nape of her neck, he ran his fingers over her scalp in search of any hidden lumps or cuts. He tried to block out how nice her silken tresses felt as they ran between and his fingers and focused intently on exploring the contours of her head.

On his second pass he found a rather large bump, right along her hairline near her temple. So she'd hit her head after all. His fingers prodded the injury and circled it to discern how bad it could be. The lump was about the size of a small egg - nothing too serious, though she'd probably have one hell of a headache when she woke up. Realizing that he wouldn't feel right about abandoning her again in favour of his spot on the other side of the elevator, he gathered her up and shifted until his back was resting against the wall.

With one hand holding her upright, and the other tucked beneath her legs, he could feel the steady rhythm of her heart beat and the slow even pace of her breaths. Even though he shouldn't have cared, the fact that he could still feel life within her body was oddly reassuring. The girl's head felt heavy on his shoulder where it was tucked neatly against the side of his neck. Resting his own head back against the wall, he let his muscles melt into the wood. This was turning out to be one hell of a day. With a frown he contemplated their dwindling list of options.

Perhaps he could pry the door open and with any luck they'd be in front of one of the other floors? He doubted it would be that easy, and fate certainly wouldn't have been quite so kind to him. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to move two solid steel doors anyway. All he knew was that they couldn't stay in the suffocating heat of the elevator for much longer. They were slowly running out of fresh oxygen - the air around them already felt stale. In addition to all of that, they hadn't eaten or gone to the bathroom in hours. At least he'd had an apple but the girl hadn't had anything.

Looking down to where her face would be, he tried to will her to wake up. If she didn't open her eyes soon she could be in some serious trouble.

"Takahashi?"

Kagome dizzily pushed past the blinding pain in her head. His name felt like it was forced out of her throat and sounded more like a raspy croak than anything intelligible. Cracking her eyes open she was startled to see that everything was dark. As sensation slowly crept back into her limbs, her fingers clawed reflexively into the damp material beneath her hand. She clenched it tight into a fist and clung to it blindly as a terrifying thought raced through her mind.

_What if I've gone blind?_

She could hear her breaths echoing overloud in her ears as they came hard and fast into her lungs. Panic was slowly taking over her normal, logical mind and she felt herself becoming borderline hysterical.

"I-I'm blind. Oh Kami I'm blind!" She burst out suddenly as heavy tears slipped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. A torrent of uncontrollable sobs was steadily building within her chest. Another minute and she'd become a sobbing, hysterical mess. The feeling of the Detective's chest shaking beneath her hand brought her up short. Was he…laughing? What kind of callous bastard-

"Well then I guess we're both blind. The lights went out."

Kagome's mouth hung open in surprise for a moment before she had the good sense to close it. With a quiet 'huh' and a sigh of relief she rested her head against its comfortable perch. It was only then that she realized that her perch was in fact the Detective's shoulder. To make matters worse, what she'd thought was the wall behind her was actually his arm holding her in place against him.

She froze and blinked her eyes wide, suddenly vividly aware of how intimately close their bodies were. Her throat swallowed convulsively and the skin of her thigh burned where his hand was wrapped around it. The question now was how best to extricate herself from his clutches. But did she want to move?

Even though it felt incredibly awkward to have him holding her (since she was fairly certain it was entirely against his nature to be intimate in any way), the warmth of his body so close to her own felt…nice. She couldn't deny that her fingers, now flat against his chest, were tingling with a desire to explore his torso. He'd ditched his bulky sweater somewhere along the way and she could feel the distinct impression of hard muscle beneath her hands.

Deciding that it was best to take advantage of an opportunity like this when it presented itself, she relaxed into him and slid her hand down his chest until it rested delicately across his stomach. She felt him swallow convulsively and his grip tightened on her for a brief moment, only to relax again once she'd stopped moving.

"I was so scared," she confessed aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought we were going to die."

"Keh. I wouldn't let you die."

Her brows knit together in confusion at the determination in his voice. This was a new development. Had the Detective's iron exterior finally cracked? Tilting her head up she peered into the dark at where his face would be and had the distinct sensation that he was watching her. She wished that the lights would come back on so she could see his eyes. Those twin amber orbs were the only way she could read him.

Swallowing hard, she bravely brought her fingers up to trace the rough stubble that ran along his jaw. Her curiosity satisfied, she let them drop away to settle once more against his chest. She could feel his lungs expand with each heavy breath and knew that if she moved her hand over just a few centimetres more she would feel his heart hammering in a steady rhythm against her palm.

A rueful smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she brought her hand to his face once more. This time she let her fingers do a little more exploring. Her thumb ran over the olive skin of his cheeks and down the rough stubble along his jaw. She eventually found his lips and felt him swallow as her fingertips brushed overtop of them; they were soft and warm to the touch and his breath tickled her skin. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she leaned into him ever so slightly. Without giving him the chance to pull away, she closed the distance between them and found his lips in the dark.

They were soft and pliant against hers, just how she thought they'd be. Smiling inwardly to herself, she easily caressed them in a languid kiss. His body tensed up almost instantly beneath hers. And though he seemed to be fighting against temptation, his lips responded almost instantly to her touch. Despite the restrained hunger she felt in his kiss his hands didn't wander and after a moment she pulled away from him feeling mildly disappointed.

"What the hell was that?"

His voice sounded rough and gravely to his ears. The animalistic side of his nature beat against the inner recesses of his mind, demanding to be set free. With a hard swallow, he pushed its demanding, insistent voice into the background and tried to clear his head. It'd only been one kiss but his body already hungered for more of her. Her lips weren't enough. He wanted to taste the saltiness of her skin, feel the texture of her delicious tongue as it pressed against his own.

"It was a kiss," she shot back instantly, sounding somewhat miffed.

Her arms crossed in front of her chest and she began to manoeuvre her legs out of his grip. His body reacted instantly and held her fast, pulling her in closer. When she was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath cascading across his cheek he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. Holding them in place, just beyond her reach, he whispered, "Do it again."

Kagome pulled back instantly with a tiny gasp of shock. And here she'd thought he hadn't liked it. Drawn in by curiosity and an unquenchable desire to taste him again, she gave into his demand and eagerly sought him out in the dark.

The second kiss was entirely different from the first. The first one he hadn't been prepared for, hadn't expected at all, but this one he wanted as badly as he wanted the rest of her. As soon as her lips touched his he devoured them in a fiery kiss. This one he wasn't going to let her escape from so easily. He ran his tongue along her soft bottom lip, pleading for access to her mouth. With a soft sigh she complied and her hands clawed into the material of his shirt to draw him in closer.

He suppressed a moan as he tasted her for the first time. His tongue greedily explored the sweet recesses of her mouth and he allowed her intoxicating flavour to wash over him. Gods it was like a drug - the more he had the more he wanted. Stifling another groan he let his hands wander over the body he'd been fantasizing about since the day they'd met. His calloused touch drifted up the smooth expanse of her thigh and he gave the lean muscle a gentle squeeze.

The scent of her arousal began to emanate from the hidden place between her thighs and it made his beast's desire to dominate her that much worse. He needed to have her, all of her. He couldn't wait any longer. Shifting his hands to settle on her hips, he briefly broke their kiss, hoisted her up and settled her back down so that she was straddling him.

Kagome's eyebrows lifted at the way he'd positioned her and a smirk tugged at one corner of her mouth. Apparently he was the type of man that knew what he wanted and went for it. Easing into her new position, she made sure to grind her heated core against the hardness hidden within his pants, while her lips explored the sensitive skin of his neck. His fingers dug into her hips and she resisted the gentle pressure he was using to try and urge her body lower.

She trailed her tongue over the salty film of sweat that coated the skin of his neck and listened appreciatively to the quick intake of breath and low growl that resounded almost soundlessly in the back of his throat. Her breath trailed in warm, tickling tendrils along his neck as she mapped it out with a string of fiery kisses. As soon as they drew close to his mouth, he snaked his fingers through her hair and pulled her lips hard against his.

There was no escaping him, not that she had any inclination of separating herself from him at this point. He nibbled, sucked, brushed and kissed her tortured lips until she was offering broken moans into his mouth and helplessly grinding her core against him. When she finally pulled away for air he brought her closer so he could explore her cheek, jaw and neck with deliciously light kisses, like she'd done to him.

Kagome closed her eyes and let out a breathy moan as his tongue teased one particularly sweet spot on her neck. Her legs tightened unconsciously around him and she moaned softly when he willingly obliged her with another delicious pass. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and swallowed down a whimper. Gods did he know how to kiss. It was like he had a map of every single spot on her neck that drove her wild and was making full use of it.

With her head still swimming she brought her hand up to tangle in his silver tresses. Since the day they'd met she'd wondered what it would feel like to thread her fingers through his hair. It looked so soft and thick that she was certain her hands could get lost inside of it - not that she'd mind that of course, as long as he kept kissing her neck the way he was. Letting out a tiny appreciative gasp, she moved her hands towards the top of his head, determined to remove that damned hat.

Before she could reach it he brought a hand up out of no where and stole her fingers away from their goal. Bringing them to his mouth, he gently suckled on each one before releasing them and doing the same to her other hand. Not easily dissuaded, she waited only a moment before sending her fingers towards his silver tresses once more. This time he wasn't as gentle. Snatching her hand out of the air he held her wrist tight and squeezed it painfully.

"What're you doing," he demanded, lust making his voice sound thick.

"I just wanted to take your hat off. Is that such a problem?" Kagome asked playfully and pulled her face away from his. When his grip on her wrist didn't loosen her mood quickly died. She tried to wrench her hand from his, but he refused to let it go.

"What if it is?"

His voice held a dangerous tone to it now and she could feel his eyes searching for hers in the dark. She tried to hold back the cold fear that was spreading through her limbs and tried unsuccessfully to jerk her hand out of his grasp once more.

"Let go. You're hurting me." Her voice was like ice and quickly cut through whatever passion might've been left hanging in the air from their heated encounter. With an undignified snort he complied and tossed her hand away before unceremoniously dumping her on the floor.

"Ouch! What the hell is wrong with you? You're totally nuts you know that?" Kagome ranted at the dark figure in front of her. After hearing no response she pushed herself to her feet and stalked to the other side of the elevator.

_What an arrogant, self righteous, inconsiderate, bastard!_

Crossing her arms over her chest in a huff, she tried to ignore the throbbing ache between her thighs and pushed away the nagging truth that he'd been the one to do it to her. She'd wanted him more than she'd wanted anyone in her life. If he'd asked her she would've done him right then and there in the elevator.

_In an elevator for Kami's sake! What the hell is wrong with you Kagome? Do you have any class?_ She could almost hear her mother's voice in the back of her mind and it brought a troubled frown to her lips.

Inuyasha, for his part, was working just as hard to quell the fire still racing through is veins. That'd been close - too close. He may be willing to fuck her senseless but that didn't mean he was ready to spill his secrets to her. She was a journalist. She was used to dealing with all types of people, but he still couldn't be certain she wouldn't reject him once she knew. He had yet to find a woman who accepted him for what he was.

Glancing towards the other side of the elevator he listened to her angered huffs and his mouth twisted into a frown. Maybe he'd been a little harsh but if it kept her from trying anything again then it was probably for the best. He reconsidered this thought when after three additional hours of sitting in the suffocating heat she still hadn't uttered a word. The anger radiating off her in waves was strong enough for him to sense it, even from where he sat.

When at last the massive steel elevator doors were pried open and blinding search lights were flashed into their eyes, the pair let out a unanimous sigh of relief. Inuyasha's eyes went immediately to Kagome who completely ignored him as she righted herself and stalked out of the elevator with the help of several firefighters on the other side.

"Hey Higurashi!" he called out to her, not sure what else to do. He had a nagging feeling that he should try to fix it. _Fix what?_ There was nothing going on between them. Getting involved, even if it was just sex, was obviously a mistake. Despite knowing that, he still felt like he had to make amends. Without stopping she yelled a rather haughty "GO TO HELL!" over her shoulder and stormed out of view.

Inuyasha's dark brows drew low over his eyes and he punched the wall in frustration. Shaking off the helping hands of the rescue crew, he leapt out of the elevator and onto what he later discovered was the third floor. One of the firefighters gave him a sympathetic smile as a paramedic checked him over for injuries.

"Hey, don't worry about the girl. We see this kinda thing all the time," one of the firefighters offered reassuringly. "No one can spend six hours trapped in an elevator without getting a bit cranky. Just give her time and she'll be back to normal."

Inuyasha lifted an eyebrow and nodded absently at the man's well intentioned words of comfort. He knew better. Their surroundings had nothing to do with the reporter's foul mood. She was always a bitch. For her, this was normal. What wasn't normal was the coy little vixen who'd straddled his lap and dry humped him until he was ready to burst in his pants like a schoolboy. Where the hell had that girl come from and why couldn't she stick around more often?

Nodding a thank you to the paramedic who gave him a clean bill of health, he nabbed his sweater and jacket from one of the firefighters and stalked towards the stairs. Relieved to finally be back out in the open, he relished the feeling of cool air against his skin. He couldn't wait to take a shower, just to get the sweat off of him. He needed to get the scent of her off of him as well. It was starting to get under his skin.

After a hasty jaunt down the stairs he soon found himself standing in the dark on the sidewalk. He scanned the street, his eyes searching for her ebony hair and lean body, but she was nowhere to be seen. With a hapless shrug he stepped off the curb and hailed a cab. He had to get away from this building and away from her to clear his head. Thinking of how close he'd come to giving in and how close _she'd_ come to discovering him sent a shiver racing down his spine. It wouldn't happen again, it couldn't.

He wasn't even sure if he could trust her. She was a damn reporter after all and everyone knew that they were just as bad as lawyers – blood sucking leeches out to get their next big scoop. Resigning himself to forgetting her completely as soon as he got home, he settled himself against the comfortable leather of the cab's back seat and closed his eyes. After muttering his address to the waiting cabbie he was quickly swayed to sleep by the rhythmic rocking of the car as it made its way down the deserted street.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ An update _finally_ I know! Sorry about the delay. I'd love to hear what you guys think so please be kind and post a review. We'll be back with our favourite reporter and surly Detective in chapter seven - "The Sound of One Hand Slapping"


	7. The Sound Of One Hand Slapping

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 7

- The Sound of One Hand Slapping -

It'd been two weeks. Two weeks of scanning page six for scathing articles. Two weeks of casually strolling past the Asahi Shimbun building hoping to catch a glance of her. Two weeks of wondering when and if he'd ever hear from her again. Sure, he could've just strolled up to her apartment, knocked on her door and apologized just as casual as you please, but he'd shoot his left foot off before he ever did that.

He couldn't understand why it bothered him so much, not hearing from her that is. It wasn't like they were together. He definitely wasn't interested. Not even remotely. Though that thought offered him little comfort when he lay awake staring at the ceiling after another racy dream.

He couldn't get her out of his head and it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. He'd done everything from cold showers to aversion therapy to forget about her but it just wasn't happening. Somehow, without his ever realizing it, she'd sunk her talons into him and was refusing to let go. This was exactly why he didn't date. Women were all the same - expensive, annoying and definitely more trouble than they were worth.

It was with that resounding thought that the Detective swallowed the last of his acrid smelling coffee. He grimaced at the feel of coffee grinds slipping down his throat and set the cup on its cheap china saucer. The waitress looked over and he motioned for a refill. He had to sober up a little before heading in to work. Drinking like a fish - that'd been another method he'd tried but it hadn't worked a jot. Actually, he was pretty certain that drinking seemed to make it worse.

While waiting for the coffee he stared pensively out the window at the steps leading up to the Asahi Shimbun building. People in expensive suits carrying leather briefcases and overflowing with self-importance strutted up the stairs, while a steady stream of shabbier looking folk trailed down them. Informants. Every paper had its retinue of low life scum who would hawk their stories for whatever they could get. The right these people had to anonymity pissed him off to no end. Every time he'd get a half decent lead it always ended with the same old line – "I'm not at liberty to reveal my sources." _Keh!_

His eyes lingered on the stairs, studying the bodies walking in and out. _She's not there._ The errant thought slipped out without his permission and he felt his mood sour. It wasn't like he was looking for her or anything. It was merely coincidence that he decided to stop in at the only shop in Tokyo that served burnt coffee at 7 AM. The fact that it was located directly across from where _she_ worked had absolutely nothing to do with it.

He moodily watched the waitress pour him another cup of the steaming bitter brew. She offered him a sympathetic smile as she eased the bill onto the table, slipping it beneath the edge of the saucer. He gave her a cold look and she quickly scampered away to clean tables on the other side of the restaurant.

Glancing at the total he snorted and threw a 1000 yen note down onto the table. 400 yen for a cup of coffee was practically highway robbery! _Damn Americans and their damn expensive coffee_…

His body froze in the middle of shoving his overstuffed walled into his back pocket when he caught sight of a familiar face across the street. It was her. She was strolling down the stairs of the news building with a warm smile on her lips, dressed in turquoise sweater and black skirt that hugged her in all the right places. She looked incredible.

The Detective swallowed hard and eased his body down onto the imitation leather bench seat. He wanted to look away but his eyes refused. He'd tried to convince himself that there was nothing special about her, nothing to her looks that made her worth thinking about, but he'd just proven himself entirely wrong. Her smile lit up her entire face and it was with a hint of regret that he realized she'd never smiled that way around him.

He saw her wave to someone at the bottom of the stairs and leaned forward, curious to see who it was. There were just too many people milling about for him to see clearly and he 'tsk'd in frustration. Who could she possibly be meeting this early in the morning? An informant? It had to be an informant. He pushed the nagging voice that asked why he cared out of his head while his eyes remained stubbornly glued to the scene across the street.

His chest tightened when she began walking down the sidewalk in his direction, arm in arm with someone else. She laughed flirtatiously at something they said and brushed a handful of windswept hair behind her ear. The bitter wave of jealousy that washed over him was entirely unexpected and he found himself digging his claws into the seat just to ride it out. How dare she throw herself all over someone else like that?

_Wait… What are you thinking? You haven't laid any claim on her. You haven't even fucked her yet! _

_Shut up! Leave me alone!_

The war between the two halves of his mind came to an abrupt halt the moment the crowd parted and he caught sight of her date. He couldn't stop the growl that rose up from his throat. The patrons close enough to hear it cowered in their seat and stared at him wide-eyed. Ignoring the smell of anxiety that suddenly permeated the area around him, the Detective angrily shoved his arms into his leather jacket and downed what was left of his coffee in one swift gulp.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do. He just knew that whatever it was he'd have to act soon. She could've had her choice of any guy in this city – why the hell did it have to be HIM?

xXx

Kagome laughed brightly at her date's joke and took a delicate sip of tea from the warm cup between her hands. As she listened to him place their breakfast order with the waitress she couldn't stop her eyes from travelling over the contours of his face. With his dark colouring and flawless olive complexion he was certainly attractive in his own way.

_He's the epitome of tall, dark and handsome_, she reminded herself. _If that's true, then why can't I convince myself to like him?_ The question hung heavy on her mind and she took another sip of tea to hide her frown. He was charming, smart, successful and attractive. He was all the things she told herself she wanted in a man, and yet there was no spark. Her heart didn't flutter when he shot her that charismatic grin and the compliments he laid at her feet couldn't even bring the slightest blush to her cheeks. As much as she hated to admit it, the only one who could stir those feelings within her was the Detective.

The loud mouth, arrogant, sloppy and completely insensitive Detective (who was completely wrong for her in _every_ way) had occupied her mind no less than every waking hour for the past two weeks. After that stunt he'd pulled in the elevator she'd thought that _maybe_ he would've had the decency to at least apologize or call, but so far she hadn't heard a peep.

_Well if he thinks I'm just going to give in and go see him…_

Crossing her arms over her chest she glared menacingly at the table.

"Higurashi? Is something wrong?"

Glancing up at her date's confused and slightly troubled expression, she quickly shook her head she laughed lightly. "Oh don't worry about me, I'm just a little chilly," she lied with a false smile and pointedly rubbed her arms .

Without hesitating he snatched his coat from the stand and carefully draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it in close to her body as he settled himself across from her. The jacket still held his warmth and it felt comforting wrapped around her, almost like a hug. It reminded her of how the Detective's arms had felt. They'd been warm too; warm and powerful and perfectly safe...

He'd reacted to her touch so readily, so willingly. It was intoxicating to hold that much power over someone, particularly a man like him who liked to assert his dominance at every opportunity. It'd been difficult delving back into the world of normal dates and monotonous work days.

_This is what a normal date is supposed to feel like,_ she reminded herself for what felt like the tenth time. _But normal is so boring!_

It was true. Her date, or dates rather, with the Detective had been anything but conventional but she never would've called them boring. For all of his griping, huffing and snarky remarks he'd actually been intriguing. She wanted to know more about his life, about what made him tick, what drove him to wake up each morning. He seemed complex, like a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle, and she was itching to get her hands on it. She wanted to know him, to understand him on levels she'd never thought to dig to. But he hadn't called and he wouldn't call. She knew that, and yet she continued to delude herself into hoping that perhaps today would be the day he'd show up at her office.

For the past two weeks every day had been a battle against her stubborn pride and bruised ego. She was tempted to write another scathing article about him to lure him out of hiding, but her fingers refused to type the words. She was angry at him, hurt that he'd literally dumped her in such a careless way, and yet she couldn't bring herself to hurt him back. After hearing what he'd gone through with Kikyo, knowing what his life was like as he continued in his struggle to find her killer, she was forced to pity him. She couldn't hate him because she empathised with his situation, knowing all too well what it felt like to have someone you love ripped away from you.

The silence was what'd bothered her most. It made time slow to a crawl so that each agonizing minute felt like an hour and each hour a day. She'd waited three whole hours in that elevator for him to say something to her but he hadn't uttered a word. No 'I'm sorry', no 'we can't do this', he hadn't even cursed at her. He'd just been silent. They'd been the longest three hours of her life and they'd slowly turned into the longest two weeks of her life.

As breakfast arrived she stared down at her plate of rolled egg and fresh fruit only to realize that she had absolutely no appetite. Shooting her date a delighted smile she picked up her fork and pressed it into a ripe strawberry. Once he bowed his head to his own meal she let her smile fade and thoughtfully bit into the slightly bitter fruit.

Today was the day when all of it had to end. She couldn't go on like this anymore, waiting for him to call, glancing up every two minutes at the doors of her office in the hopes of seeing him standing on the other side. It was ridiculous and a complete waste of time. After today she wasn't going to do it anymore - that was it. Goodbye, Detective Takahashi! Well…tomorrow hadn't arrived yet. She still had time to find out whatever she could about his secrets before she gave up on him forever.

"Say Koga," she began sweetly, looking up from where she was playing with her slowly cooling eggs. He glanced up at her, his mouth full of hash brown and nodded his head. "How well do you know Detective Takahashi?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her question and she averted her gaze back down to her plate, hoping he couldn't see the blush that'd risen to her cheeks. He took a sip from his coffee cup before answering and she noticed the funny way the grease on his fingertips left perfectly circular impressions against the pristine white china.

"You mean mutt face? I know him as well as I need to. Why do you wanna know about him?" His cobalt eyes flashed with curiosity as he fixed his gaze on her. Kagome twirled her fork between her fingers as she carefully planned her next words. She wanted to find out as much as she could about him without making it too obvious she was digging.

"He and I are working together on a case and I like to know as much as I can about my colleagues before we start a project together," she lied again. It was so easy to lie to him. "What can you tell me about the Detective?"

He gave her an indifferent shrug and shovelled a fork full of egg into his mouth. "You've met him. He's arrogant, rude, brash, he doesn't think before he says anything, he's completely inconsiderate of everyone else around him and he's about as loyal as they come."

Kagome looked up in surprise. _Wait…was that a compliment?_ Everything else she knew already, but Takahashi…loyal? That was something new.

Seeing her surprise Koga put his fork down, realizing that some explanation was probably in order. "Look, Takahashi has himself his own set of problems. He's not perfect, hell none of us are, but he's not really a bad guy. I just like to bust his balls and he does the same to me." He shrugged his shoulders lightly and took a perfunctory sip of coffee.

"It's a mutual love-hate thing. He may be a little unorthodox but I can tell ya one thing for sure, if I was ever taking fire he's the only one I'd trust to cover my back."

Kagome nodded thoughtfully and mulled over this new impression of the Detective. Koga seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders. If what he was saying was even partially true then perhaps the Detective wasn't such a waste of space after all. That still didn't change the fact she hadn't heard from him, or that he'd gotten her hot and heavy in the elevator and then dumped her unceremoniously on the floor. He was still a thoughtless jerk, but now he was a loyal one. _Great_!

"So he saved your life did he?" she interjected, without missing a beat.

Koga shrugged one shoulder up in a hapless gesture and a wry smile came to his lips. "Yeah. I've still got the bullet in my shoulder to prove it. The stupid son-of-a-bitch stepped in and pushed me out of the way. Took a slug right to the chest." He took another sip of coffee and shook his head, his eyes darkening with distant memories.

"Being shot at that close of range, he must've been in pretty bad shape."

She was surprised by the way Koga smiled at her. It was the type of smile that said he knew something she didn't and she instantly wanted to know what it was.

"Something as small as a bullet couldn't take him down. You've gotta have a lot more firepower than that to knock off someone like him," he answered cryptically.

Kagome blinked at him in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? She'd felt Takahashi's body. He wasn't fitted with metal plating beneath his skin. He was just as human as everyone else! Being heroic was one thing, but thinking that you could stop a bullet with your body and live to tell about it was just plain stupid.

_So he is an idiot after all…they're both idiots!_ she reasoned.

"What does he hide under that hat of his? A bullet proof vest?"

Koga shot her another knowing smile and seemed to chuckle to himself as he picked up his fork and piled it high with more egg.

"So that's what this is about. He hasn't told you yet, has he?"

Kagome's brows knit together, "Told me what? What are you talking about?"

"That he's a-"

Koga's words were cut short as he was wrenched up from his seat by his collar. With one fist twisted into Koga's shirt and the other ready to pound his face was one very angry looking Detective.

"Finish that sentence," he warned with a threatening growl, "and the next thing you eat will be my fist!"

"If you don't let go of my shirt you're gonna be missing a hand," Koga shot back through clenched teeth.

Kagome gaped at them both in shock. A quick glance at the maitre d' confirmed that he was halfway to calling the police. She shot him an imploring look and promised with a small shake of her head that she'd take care of it. The Detective was still uttering threats, completely oblivious to the scene he was creating.

_Typical_.

Bracing her hands against the table she stood and fixed the Detective with a glare that promised worlds of pain and suffering.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him.

_You don't show your face for two weeks, you don't even CALL, but you have the nerve to come in here and disrupt MY date? Of all the inconsiderate, boorish, pig-headed… _

He turned to her distractedly and practically snarled in her face, "Me? What the hell are you doing here with this flea bag?"

He looked at her as though she'd committed some kind of heinous crime by having breakfast with Koga. Not easily intimidated, she crossed her arms in front her chest and arched a contentious eyebrow at him. Whatever thoughts she'd had about the Detective possibly being a half decent guy were rapidly disappearing.

Koga took advantage of Inuyasha's momentary lapse in concentration and wrenched his shirt out of his grasp. Everyone in the restaurant seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Straightening his collar he leveled a dangerous glare at him and balled his own hands into ready fists. Realizing that if she didn't step in soon there would be a full out brawl across her breakfast table, Kagome stepped between them, facing Koga since he seemed to be the more rational of the two.

Seeing that she was determined to beat some sense into the Detective herself he reluctantly nodded and backed away, settling himself once more at the table. Satisfied, she turned next to the Detective only to find that he looked ready to leap over her and throttle Koga where he sat. Gabbing hold of his arm she literally dragged him outside, making sure to shoot the waiter and everyone else apologetic looks as she did so. Hopefully they would just assume that he was some mentally disturbed relative. The way he acted she had to wonder if he wasn't one card short of a full deck.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air her body gave an involuntary shiver and she wished she hadn't left Koga's jacket back in the restaurant. Spying an alleyway close by, she guided the Detective inside with the intention of making her point short and sweet. Letting go of his arm she pushed him up against the brick wall. His eyes blazed with resentment even as she stared him down. He wasn't remorseful in the least. He didn't care that he'd ruined her breakfast, interrupted her date, and made a scene in front of an entire restaurant of people. He just didn't care. His eyes told her that loud and clear.

Her reaction was instinctive and had she thought about it for longer than a half-second she probably would've decided against it, but as it was she was too upset to think logically. She lashed out, slapping him hard across the face - hard enough that his head snapped to the side. The sharp sound of the slap echoed down the alleyway and she hastily stepped away from him. He was so unpredictable she couldn't even be sure if he wasn't the type of man to hit back.

Kagome watched anxiously as his hand came up and thoughtfully stroked at the slowly reddening handprint on his cheek. He turned to look at her and she was surprised to see that the anger that'd been brewing in his eyes was gone. He studied her in silence and she shifted anxiously under his gaze.

"You're strong for a girl," was all he said before gingerly shifting his jaw side to side to make sure everything was in place. Kagome threw her hands up in the air in frustration and took several paces back and forth in front of him.

"Seriously? That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" He leaned back against the wall and gave her an arrogant look. She was tempted to slap him again but had an inkling he probably wouldn't let her get away with it a second time. She heaved a frustrated sigh and scowled at him instead.

"An apology would be nice. How about a 'Hey Higurashi, sorry for ruining your breakfast date. I'm a complete asshole!' Or maybe 'Sorry you haven't heard from me in two weeks. I was abducted by the Russian mafia and only just escaped."

"Is that what you want me to tell you?"

"Oh you arrogant son-of-a-bitch! I hate you. I really hate you, you know that?"

Convinced that trying to get anywhere with him was a lost cause, she marched to the end of the alley and looked longingly down the street at the restaurant. She rubbed her arms through her sweater and shivered. As she stood there, debating whether to have at him some more or go back inside, she was surprised to feel the heavy weight of a jacket settle over her shoulders. Looking down her eyes widened as she realized that he'd put his jacket over her to keep her warm. She slowly turned towards him, her shoulders losing their rigidity. It was a peace offering. He wasn't going to apologize but he'd given her his jacket instead. She sighed inwardly.

_Takahashi…just what the hell am I going to do with you?_

"You didn't have to go to him. You could've asked me what you wanted to know," he said seriously. He rested his back against the aging brick wall and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans to keep them warm. He didn't look at her, keeping his golden orbs fixed on the small patch of blue sky above their heads instead.

"I tried that," she shot back. "You dumped me, literally, and went into hiding for two weeks."

He 'hmmed' at that and smirked, obviously finding something she'd said amusing. Kagome's eyes darkened as she envisioned him picturing the very moment he ungracefully tossed her to the floor in the elevator.

"Does it really matter?" He sounded defeated.

She nodded her head and took a hesitant step towards him. She subtly snuggled further into his jacket as she did so, eager to absorb what was left of his warmth. Dipping her head, she discretely took in the familiar scent of him mingled with the aroma of the leather. It was growing on her. At first she'd convinced herself that he reeked of booze and cigarettes, but now she knew better. In the elevator he'd smelled clean. The faint musk of his body had mixed with his Old Spice aftershave to create a pleasant scent that was entirely his own. His jacket smelled of it now, too.

As his scent swept into her nostrils an instant tingle ran down her spine until it ended in a warm pool between her thighs. Realizing her thoughts were drifting in the wrong direction she snapped her head up and waited for him to speak.

He was silent for a minute longer, debating the issue with himself. To trust her or not to trust her? Had she earned it yet? Deciding that it still wasn't the right time he slowly shook his head. "I can't tell you. Not yet. I need to know I can trust you first."

Kagome scoffed at the backhanded insult. Turning heel, she stalked back to the edge of the sidewalk.

"If you're thinking you'll just go and ask Koga you should probably know he won't tell you either. He knows better."

Kagome stopped in her tracks, her hands balled into tight, frustrated fists.

"You know, I've had nothing but problems since the day I met you! You disturb me at work, you interrupt my dates and constantly have me on edge. I've had enough. Can you please just stay out of my life?"

"Sure, no problem. There's nothing to keep me coming back anyways. But let's not forget that you inserted yourself into _my_ life, not the other way around."

His words bit into her and she closed her eyes against the painful feeling that cut into her chest. If she didn't care about him why was this so hard? Why did it feel like she was making a huge mistake?

Slipping the jacket from her shoulders she discretely smelled it one last time before turning around and holding it out to him. He stalked towards her, stopping only when his face was within inches of hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath as it cascaded over the bridge of her nose. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the jacket and took it from her grasp. His eyes never left hers as he pulled it out of her reach; they held her captive and she willingly fell into their molten gold depths.

She didn't realize he was leaning into her until his lips brushed featherlight over hers. One touch was all she needed. Rising up onto her tip-toes she fisted her hands in the material of his shirt and pulled him closer, melting at the familiar feeling of his lips against hers. Jacket still in hand, he brought his fist to the small of her back to pull her in closer and simultaneously snaked his fingers into her dark hair.

Holding her prisoner, he assaulted her lips until he felt the tension leave her shoulders. She let out a soft moan and wrapped her delicate hands around his neck to pull him down to her, pressing her body against his. When he finally pulled away for air his eyes took in the faint flush in her cheeks and committed the view to memory.

This was the right thing to do, or so he told himself over and over again. But if it was right, why did it feel so wrong? With a grim nod of his head he stepped out of her grasp and then stalked out of the alleyway, swinging his coat casually over his shoulder as he went.

Kagome stared after him in stunned silence. Her fingers slowly lifted to rest against her bruised lips and her tongue flicked out to lick at the remnants of his taste. As the fire in her veins slowly cooled she realized what he'd intentionally done to her for the second time. Narrowing her eyes at where he'd disappeared into the crowded street her hands balled into tight fists at her sides and she let out a growl of frustration.

_Takahashi, you bastard!_


	8. Secret's Out

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 8

- Secret's Out -

"Ugh! What a day!" Kagome kicked her front door closed behind her and hastily deposited the mail and house keys on her kitchen counter. Setting her bag down on the floor she braced her hands on either side of the sink and took a moment to just breathe. Describing it as a day from Hell would be an understatement. One of her key sources for the Senator piece suddenly got amnesia, meaning he was paid enough money to keep his mouth shut. On top of that, the Editor was on her ass about the construction workers' union strike piece and on top of all of that, her favourite pair of Manolos had snapped a heel!

Slipping the offending shoe off her foot she narrowed her eyes at the stub where a graceful stiletto had once been before tossing the ¥ (yen) 60 000 red suede heel carelessly into the sink. Letting out a defeated sigh, she pulled open her cutlery drawer and snatched up the biggest spoon she could find. When you had a day as bad as this one, there was only one thing that could satisfy you – Häagen-Dasz. Popping open the freezer she deftly extracted the hidden tub of "Triple Brownie Overload", slipped the lid off and plunged the spoon inside.

Bringing a rather large helping to her lips she actually groaned with delight as the smooth chocolate ran over her tongue and she sank her teeth into a chewy brownie morsel. The near-orgasmic moment was ruined when a wayward thought of the Detective popped into her mind.

_I thought we agreed we weren't going to think about him anymore?_ she chided herself.

With a disappointed shake of her head, she glanced at the calendar. It'd been three days since he'd kissed her in the alley. With work so busy she'd hardly noticed how much time had gone by. It wasn't like she expected to hear from him or anything, he'd proven himself completely unreliable in that particular department. It was just…well…she didn't know what. It felt unfinished, like everything had been left hanging in the air without a single string to tie it to the ground. She wanted closure. She wanted to know for sure that things – what things? there had never been a THING! – between them were finally over for good.

_Who am I kidding?_ she asked herself. _I want him._

Letting out a sigh, she scooped another generous helping from the tub and devoured it. Just as it began to melt on her tongue a knock sounded at the door. Pressing a hand to her forehead she winced as the cold ice cream sent a hard ache into her right temple. With one eye squeezed shut she opened the door to find the Detective standing with his hands in his pockets on the other side. Stunned, she froze with her hand braced against the doorframe and stared.

His brows drew up in surprise at her screwed up face. "What's wrong with you?"

She waved his question off with a flip of her hand, "It's nothing. I'm fine."

With the pain mercifully receding she was able to open her eyes and regain her composure. She narrowed her gaze at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest feigning indifference.

"What are you doing here?"

Truth be told, she wasn't all that upset that he'd mysteriously shown up at her door at eleven o'clock at night but when a man has shafted you the first time you see him you want to look your best. She looked…well…tired would be one way of putting it. With her hair tousled around her head from running her hands through it, one red suede heel mysteriously missing and day old make up on she wasn't exactly looking her best. He, of course, looked the same as he always did – unkempt, unshaven, mysterious and impossibly sexy.

Letting out a sigh she stepped back from the doorframe and motioned for him to step inside; no sense making him wait out in the hall. Stepping back into the kitchen she caught the way his eyebrows raised at the tub of Triple Brownie Overload on the counter with the spoon sticking upright out of the center, and hurried to put it away.

"You never answered my question," she said as she closed the freezer door. She turned towards him and saw that he was casually leaning against her counter with his eyes glued to the floor. After a long moment of tense silence she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Takahashi, you can't just come to my apartment in the middle of the night and-"

"Inuyasha."

He cut her off so abruptly that her voice faltered and she was left blinking at him in confusion. Had he actually spoken?

"Sorry, what?"

He shifted uncomfortably against the counter and lifted his eyes to hers. "You don't need to call me Takahashi. My name's Inuyasha."

His voice was rough even to his own ears and he gently coughed to clear his throat. Why was this so hard? He didn't even know what he was doing here. He'd been driving aimlessly around the city, with no direction or destination, and somehow he'd ended up here. He'd sat in the car for forty minutes trying to decide whether or not to go up to her apartment.

He'd seen her come home and watched her figure climb the three flights of stairs to her door. Before he knew it he was standing in front of her apartment door, staring at the hunter green paint, and asking himself what to do. What the hell was he even going to say to her?

He'd been tempted to walk away and just go back to his car, to pretend like it never happened, but his body wouldn't let him. With a will of its own his hand had lifted and rapped against her door. With his heart hammering in his chest and the blood pounding in his ears he'd waited in the hallway for her to answer, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists until he had the wherewithal to shove them into his pockets.

Now that he was standing in her kitchen he knew that there was nowhere else to run. It was now or never. Either he gave in and trusted her or he walked away. He hadn't trusted anyone in so long - hardly before Kikyo and certainly not since her. He'd spent years convincing himself that no one would ever accept him for what he was, but what if he was wrong? What if this spitfire reporter was the one person who would hold his secret? It seemed crazy to believe it might be possible. She was a _reporter_ after all. But from where he stood it seemed crazier to leave without ever knowing.

"Oh," was Kagome's startled response. She hadn't expected that. So he was willing to move to familiars? It was a surprise, but then he was pretty unorthodox.

"Alright Inuyasha," she said, testing the name on her tongue, "in that case call me Kagome."

When his fiery amber eyes met hers she found herself gripping the countertop for support. His rough voice emerged to say, "Alright…Kagome," and she felt her knees weaken a little. Why did he always have this affect on her? All it took was one look and she was practically ready to melt into a pile of goo at his feet. To distract herself, she turned away from him and pretended to tidy the countertop.

"So does this mean you're going to tell me your big bad secret?" she teased, hazarding a glance at him over her shoulder.

She felt him sigh by the way that the tension in the room suddenly magnified tenfold. He was fighting it. Whatever it was, he didn't want to tell her. It was obvious from the pinched look that crossed his features the moment she brought it up. It was up to him whether he trusted her enough to tell her, but they both knew that if he didn't he might as well walk straight back out the door.

"If I do, can you promise me you won't freak out?"

"Freak out?" she questioned, her eyebrows rising with concern. "What do you mean 'freak out'?"

"Just…you have to promise me you aren't going to go all psycho."

His shoulders had ridden up until they were practically at his ears. He was clearly anxious, which only left her feeling more confused. Curiosity won out in the end and she reluctantly agreed.

"Okay, I promise. Do you want to sit down?"

He shot her a grateful smile, the first she'd seen from him, and hastily settled himself at her quaint dining table. It was just a small polished oak table, really only big enough for two, but it suited their purposes fine. Inuyasha settled himself into one of the chairs and rested his hand atop the table. His fingers anxiously tapped the lacquered surface in a nervous rhythm.

Kagome pulled her chair around to sit closer to him and crossed her legs expectantly, fixing him with a curious but intrigued look. She was more eager than ever to know what his secret was. What was he hiding that would have her "freaking out"? By the way he was acting, the last time he'd tried to tell someone their reaction had been anything but pleasant. After a moment of tense silence, Kagome uncrossed her legs and made a move to stand.

"Do you want some tea? Coffee, maybe? I can make some."

He briefly glanced up at her and then dropped his gaze to the table and shook his head "No."

Uttering a soft sigh, she settled herself back into her chair and studied the modern art adorning her kitchen wall. The stylized fruit was certainly an interesting choice. She made a mental note to ask her mother where she'd bought it so she could look for matching pieces.

"I'm a hanyou."

His confession brought her back from her thoughts so quickly that she hardly had time to process what he said. _A hanyou?_ She remained silent as she took in his tense posture and the way his hand had clenched into a death grip atop the table. Her brows knitting together she wondered how bad this "hanyou" thing could possibly be that it would have him so worked up.

"Is that some kind of fetish or something? 'Cause you know I might be okay with that depending on what it is. One time I dated this guy who had a thing for feet. That was just kinda creepy, but I could be open to new ideas…"

Seeing the stunned look that crossed his features her voice trailed off and she suffered an embarrassed smile. "Sorry," she confessed, "I don't know what a 'hanyou' is."

For a moment she was almost certain she saw a smile tug at one corner of his mouth but it was gone in a blink and he was stone faced once more.

"It's not a fetish," he reassured her. "A hanyou is a... Well... I'm a half demon. A half _dog_-demon if you want to get specific about it."

Of all the reactions he'd been expecting, the one he got wasn't one he'd been prepared for. After a moment of silence Kagome burst into hysterical laughter. Her face turned bright red and she buried it in her arms, snorting and chuckling until her sides ached too much to go on. Feeling the giddy laughter finally begin to subside she looked up at him and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. The broad smile on her face faded when she saw that he hadn't even cracked a smile.

"Oh. You're serious?" she asked in disbelief, her eyes growing wide as they panned down his body. He looked normal enough, what did he mean he was a _half_ demon? What did that have to do with anything? Why was it such a big secret? The way he described it she half expected him to turn into a dog that very moment but there sat there looking as normal as you please.

Apparently he didn't see the humour in the situation. Shooting her an angry glare he muttered, "Nevermind, forget it," through clenched teeth and abruptly got to his feet. Reacting almost instantly, her hands shot out and latched them onto his arm to stop him.

"Sorry. I really am," she pleaded with an apologetic look. "I didn't mean to offend you. I've just never heard of a hanyou before. Are they common?"

"No." The ire remained in his voice but he slowly returned to his seat.

"But you look human," she offered, allowing her eyes to pan over him from head to toe once more. There were no distinguishing features that she could see. For all she knew he was some whack job who'd convinced himself he was half demon, like those people who insisted they were real life vampires. She really hoped he wasn't crazy. He was too damn good looking to be nuts.

"I'm not," was his curt reply. He still refused to look at her, choosing instead to fix his gaze on her array of fridge magnets. Frowning, Kagome realized that the only way she was going to make any progress was to get her hands dirty.

She quietly got to her feet and stepped purposefully towards him. When he made no move to stop her, she straddled his thighs and settled on top of his lap. His hands seem to appear out of nowhere to grab hold of her hips and keep her in place against him.

"Show me." Her voice was barely above a whisper but in the silence of her apartment, with no noise but for the humming of the refrigerator, he heard her just fine.

"My hat. Take it off."

A smile slipped across her lips as she realized that she was finally going to see what was beneath the mysterious fedora he insisted on wearing. Running her hands over the round muscles of his shoulders she brought them up the line of his neck and then slowly peeled off his hat.

She wasn't exactly sure what she'd expected to find underneath, but when she was greeted with two white fuzzy triangles conspicuously in the shape of dog ears all she could do was blink. Discarding the hat on the table, she reached out a tentative hand and grazed her fingertip along one ear's soft pink edge. It twitched under her touch and a triumphant grin spread across her face.

They were adorable! She wasn't going to say that out loud of course. He'd just shared his biggest secret with her after all, and it wouldn't be prudent to demean his masculinity with cheers of "KAWAII!" So she kept mum and satisfied herself with teasing them and watching them twitch at her every touch.

"Are they sensitive?" she asked tentatively, not sure how comfortable he was talking about them.

"Very." His voice was hard. He sounded annoyed, most likely from her playing with his ears, but she felt his body relax beneath her. He may be irked by her curiosity but apparently her reaction (or lack thereof) had soothed his nerves.

With a devious grin Kagome decided it was time to experiment. Leaning forward she extended the tip of her tongue and grazed it along the light pink inner edge of one ear. He responded by sucking in a deep breath though his nose and digging his fingers into her hips. _Hmm…interesting_, she thought wickedly. So apparently not only did the Detective, or Inuyasha rather, have a pair of adorable dog ears hiding beneath his hat, they were also incredibly sensitive to the touch.

_I could have SO much fun with these! _she thought mischievously.

Turning her attention to the other ear, she repeated her move but this time when she reached the tip she pulled the edge into her mouth and suckled on it gently. He rewarded her with a soft moan and she sat back with a satisfied smile.

"I love them," she reassured him, her voice ringing with sincerity.

He searched her eyes for signs of deception and found none. She meant it, every word, and it left him reeling. Gently cupping her face between his hands, he pulled her mouth down to his. He'd never imagined it could be so easy, never imagined that she would accept his demon half without fear or reservation. He'd known from the start that she was different from the others, and now he knew why.

Cradling her jaw, he turned her head and placed reverent kisses down her cheek to the silky skin of her neck. The beat of her pulse kept a steady rhythm against his lips and the breath hitched in the back of her throat. She wanted this as badly as he did, he realized with some surprise. His cock was already throbbing, demanding to be inside of her, but he ignored it knowing it would have to wait. It'd been so long since he'd let someone get this close. He didn't have any intention of rushing it.

Even as that thought crossed his mind he found the slow, careful way she was unbuttoning her blouse to be completely maddening. Every part of him wanted to tear the damn thing off, but he tapped into his limited reserves of patience and watched hungrily instead as inch after inch of creamy skin was revealed before his eyes.

"Kami…you're gorgeous," he breathed, and dipped his head to kiss the tops of her breasts.

A smile crossed Kagome's lips and she eyed his bent head. Her fingers itched to tease his ears but at the moment she was more preoccupied with thoughts of what he looked like without all of those clothes on. She'd felt his body in his elevator when his damp t-shirt had clung to him like a second skin. He was hard, muscular and lean. Her fingers tingled now with the need to touch every muscle and graze every plain. She wanted to know him, feel him, conquer him. As he nibbled at the skin of her shoulder she snaked her fingers through his silver hair and whispered his name.

But wait… What if she was coming on a little too strong? Maybe she was giving him the wrong message? Though she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted any other man between her thighs, she had to know if he wanted this to be something more than a good lay. Her hands faltered as she pulled his shirt over his head. He pulled away just long enough to toss his shirt to the floor before he was on her again, ripping the rest of her buttons off in frustration and sending her shirt to join his.

"Where's the bedroom…" he murmured with his lips against her neck.

Too dazed to pay attention to anything but the raging fire pumping through her veins he had to repeat himself before she answered. Shaking her head to clear it, she glanced towards the hall past the kitchen.

"It's over there. But wait…"

He cocked an eyebrow at her curiously, his expression unusually patient. Feeling a blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, she stammered out the jumble of thoughts rushing through her head without pausing to make them coherent.

"Maybe we should take a minute. I mean, I hardly know you! What if-"

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked as she licked the taste of him from her lips. His eyes were full of lust and mischief, promising no shortage of pleasure should she choose to continue.

The only response she could muster was a soft hiss as he bent his head to tease her neck with his tongue. In the midst of the warmth that was wrapping around her like a blanket to muddle her thoughts, she managed to slowly shake her head back and forth. When she was finally able to find her voice again her words sounded like a broken plea, one which she knew he would obey.

"Mmmm…no. Don't stop."

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_Author's Note:_ I hope you guys are liking this story so far. It's got a long way to go still, but any advice you can send my way would be awesome! I'll try to update soon :) Cheers!


	9. Lemonade?

_Author's Note:_ ATTENTION FANFIC READERS! This chapter is 11 pages of smutt (aka a **lemon**) so if you are **under age** you can just skip it (but really who am I kidding? We both know you're going to read it anyway). If any of you don't want to read about hot sex between our Detective and the lovely reporter Miss Kagome then you guys can skip this chapter too. Since this is my first real attempt at a lemon please be nice review wise…no flames (please?) but constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome! Now…READ ON!

* * *

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 9

- Lemonade -

If someone told Kagome Higurashi on Monday that she would have a deliciously half naked Detective between her thighs by week's end she probably would've laughed. If that same someone told her that the Detective making her moan in her bed was also a half demon, she would've called them nuts. Crazy or not, Kagome could hardly believe it when her eyes fluttered open and locked with a half lidded golden stare through a curtain of silver hair. Reaching her fingers up she pulled him down into another searing kiss and couldn't stop the moan that escaped the moment their lips met.

She felt like a starving street urchin, desperately wanting more nourishment and never feeling satisfied with what she got. Even now with his powerful body on top of her, her mind seemed able to focus on one thing only – the feeling of his cock, still restrained by his jeans, pressed firmly against her core and how badly she wanted it inside of her. Looping her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans she pulled him down against her even as her hips bucked up to meet his. Soon she was eagerly grinding her core against him, her fingers firmly digging into the small of his back to urge him on.

"Shit would you stop doing that?" he gruffed at her, his voice muffled between her neck and shoulder where he'd been torturing her with languid kisses.

"Why? You know you want it," she retorted with a cocky smile which only broadened when he pushed himself away from her to fix her with a defiantly cocked eyebrow.

"You think so do you? I could leave any time I want," he threatened playfully before crawling backwards to sit on his haunches. Pushing herself up onto her elbows Kagome narrowed her eyes at him.

"You wouldn't dare," she wagered seriously as she bit back the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She loved their banter. She'd always known he had an attitude and watching him acting it out in the bedroom made her blood run hot with fire. She wanted him to tell her what to do, to force her to submit to his will and she absolutely loved the way he was teasing her. In the outside world he would never get away with it, but here in her room behind closed doors the game was different and she couldn't get enough.

In response to her challenge he shrugged his shoulders casually but didn't make a move to leave. Instead he slid his hand down her thigh in a gentle caress until it reached her warm, wet center. Locking eyes he gave her a lusty grin before slipping his fingers beneath the thin lace of her panties and rewarding her with a few exploratory strokes. In response she helplessly bucked her hips against his hand and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She wanted to moan, but not yet, she would hold off for now. Not satisfied with this meagre reaction, Inuyasha slipped his slick fingers into her even wetter core and gave a few gentle thrusts. When his thumb began to massage the small bundle of nerves at the base of her pelvic bone Kagome finally let her head fall back and a gentle sigh to escape her lips.

All too soon he removed his fingers from where they were providing her with divine torture and her body did its best to follow him. She heard him chuckle at the tiny whimper that left her lips and she wanted to punch him. The coil in her belly was already tight enough to make her squirm in anticipation and his teasing wasn't making it any better. She was about one finger bang away from telling him to be a man, rip his pants off and do her right then and there. As it was, she bent her head forward to give him a glare that threatened castration if he didn't continue what he'd been doing. He ignored her and continued to lick her juices from his fingertips.

"You taste amazing," he said after his tongue had made its last pass over his fingertip.

"I wish I could say the same," she retorted with a tiny pout. The Detective's eyebrows shot up with surprise but a smile quickly spread across his lips.

"I'm all yours, you just need to come here and get me dollface," he teased as he stepped backwards to stand barefoot at the foot of her bed.

He'd definitely fantasized about this exact moment, his hot feisty little reporter with her lips wrapped around his cock. Just the thought of what was to come made his already swollen member pulse with anticipation. He'd wanted to ask her but he knew better than to assume that all girls were into that kind of thing. Judging by the lusty gleam in his dark haired beauty's eyes though, she was exactly the kind of girl who was into it. He watched with anticipation as she crawled slowly across the bed towards him.

Rising up onto her knees in front of him, Kagome trailed her fingertips in a feather light stroke down his stomach and playfully traced them along the waist of his jeans. Sneaking her index finger inside, she jerked him towards her and stole a kiss from his swollen lips before giving a quick nip to one of his nipples. With her ear so close to his chest she couldn't miss the soft growl that rumbled inside as her teeth grazed his sensitive skin and she turned an inquisitive eye up towards him. He gave her an apologetic half shrug and rested his hands against her shoulders.

"Don't worry about it. That's a good sign," he explained patiently. She wasn't worried though. Turning her attention to his other nipple she smiled as the sound resounded through his chest once again. _Hmmm…kinky! _Despite the fact that she was preoccupied trying to work his belt loose in the least awkward way possible (and finding it nearly impossible! Stupid belts!) she found herself wondering if he would whimper once she had her hands on him. _Maybe I can make him howl?_ she thought dangerously and had to force down the giggle that particular mental image forced up into her throat.

Running her teeth over her bottom lip she worked the stiff leather of his belt until its clasp finally gave free. With a triumphant smile she dragged it through each belt loop before tossing it carelessly to the floor. Slipping her fingers into the waist of his jeans she tugged him gently forward and he obliged, sinking his fingers into her hair as he did so. With gentle strokes he ran his fingertips through her ebony locks, and frowned as he realized frustratingly that he was currently unable to reach any other part of her. With a snap the button of his jeans was released and with the muted buzz of a zipper releasing they were pushed down around his ankles.

Inuyasha watched the way her eyes travelled over his boxer clad body with a faint feeling of apprehension. It'd been a long time since he'd been in this position. He had a feeling sex was like a bicycle…one you know how to ride it the knowledge will always come back to you when necessary, but that didn't stop the worrisome flips his stomach was making. He could feel his chest begin to heave as he struggled to pull in more breath. Her hands, small and firm, dragged slowly up the length of his muscular thighs and slipped beneath the loose hem of his boxer shorts. He thanked the gods that he'd remembered to put on a clean pair that morning. It was hard to remember simple inconsequential things like that without the constant presence of a woman to nag you about it. Though considering the way her hands were expertly massaging his balls at the moment he seriously thought that he wouldn't mind listening to her nag for the rest of his natural life as long as everything else she did tonight felt as good as what she was doing now.

The moment her hands slipped further up his underwear to graze his already hard cock, in a fleeting but completely irresistible stroke, he was forced to close his eyes and swallow the groan that rose to the back of his throat. Kami he'd forgotten how good it felt to have a woman's hands on him. They were so soft and gentle and the way they touched you immediately surpassed anything you could ever do yourself.

Opening his eyes at the feeling of cool air hitting his naked skin he realized that she'd somehow removed his boxers as well without his even realizing it. He had to give her kudos for that. He watched her eyes subtly widen as she took in her front row view of his naked length. From the way that the corner of her lips tugged upwards he could only surmise that she liked what she saw. Being half demon certainly had its advantages at times…times like this moment in particular came to mind.

With a twitch of the downy white ears atop his head he took in her racing heart, quickened breath, and the subtle, almost inaudible, sound of her tongue snaking out to lick her lips. His smile broadening he realized that coming here had quite possibly been the best idea he'd had in a long time. His hands, which had continued to slip through her delightfully silky hair, stopped the moment he felt the warmth of her lips wrap around the head of his cock and give it a playful suck. He was fairly sure he stopped breathing.

xXx

_Oh fuck…_ was the only thought his mind had time to communicate before her tongue joined her lips and hands and she wrapped him in the soothing liquid warmth of her mouth. His body remained stock still during her first languid and tortuously slow stroke as he was reminded with a crash course just how good this was supposed to feel. Her tongue, which had apparently had expert practice doing this before, gave several delicious strokes to the underside of his shaft from base to tip before encircling his head and flicking mercilessly against that one most sensitive spot.

Sucking in his breath through his teeth he fought the buckle in his knees. Locking them in place, he simultaneously did his best not to exert too much pressure on the head bobbing beneath his fingertips. The last thing he wanted to do was commit the first carnal blow job sin – don't push her head down! He repeated his silly little mantra in his head as much to remind himself to not do it as to keep his mind occupied so he didn't commit the first carnal sin of a good lay – don't jump the gun! Realizing that the sensuous heated pull of her mouth against his already achingly needy cock was going to do him in sooner rather than later, he let out a pained groan and gently pushed her away.

"Enough." He was surprised he managed to force the word out between his pants and the pulsing throb of his dick. It was not happy that he'd decided to cut play time short. Ignoring the painfully tight coil that had manifested in the pit of his stomach, he swallowed hard and took in a calming breath. Looking down at Kagome he shot her an appreciative smile and she returned it with a look of mock hurt. Kneeling with one knee on the edge of the bed he slowly crawled forward on all fours until he caught her pouting bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it into sensuous kiss. Urging his tongue past her swollen ruby lips, he explored her mouth as he moved his body overtop of hers. Balancing his weight on one arm he gingerly traced the other up the silky smooth skin of her thigh until he reached her heated core.

He could smell her arousal, it practically permeated the room, but it wasn't until his fingertips slipped past the lace barrier of her underwear that he realized how truly wet she was. With a groan he thanked the gods for the umpteenth time that night for his good fortune and slowly traced his fingers along the slick folds of her sex. Meanwhile she eagerly met his tongue in a playful fight for dominance, which he of course won, and it wasn't long before her back was arching towards him and tiny moans of delight were pushing past her lips.

Pausing momentarily, just to be a tease, he waited until her hips bucked against his hand and she whined softly before finally plunging his fingers inside of her. Her muscles eagerly wrapped around them and tried to pull him in deeper as he slowly thrust them in and out. After a moment of watching her writhe beneath him and listening to the way her moans were steadily getting louder he finally relinquished and withdrew his fingers.

"You sure about this? I'm a hanyou…" he whispered huskily, his face hovering mere inches above hers. Even in the dim light she could make out the warm amber of his eyes as they searched hers. Without hesitating she nodded readily and brought her hands to rest on either side of his face.

"Trust me. You don't have a thing to worry about." To accentuate her point she dropped her hands to the smooth skin of his stomach and explored his muscles, deftly avoiding the only spot she knew he desperately wanted her to touch. After one more tantalizing sweep over his abs she brought her hands to rest atop the hard muscles of his back. Feeling his hesitation in the way they tensed beneath her fingertips she pulled him down into a searing kiss. For someone who always seemed so thick skinned, she was surprised to see him acting so self conscious now…then again, getting naked with another person could make almost anyone feel insecure.

As their kiss deepened she felt his muscles relax and she knew she'd won him over, though it hadn't been hard. There wasn't anything left to say that their actions couldn't communicate for them. With a flick of his claws she felt the underwear that had once acted as a barrier between them slacken and fall away. She considered being annoyed that he'd ruined a perfectly good lace thong, but her body had other things in mind. Of their own accord her hips lifted to graze her wetness against him and he met her thrust with one of his own. All hesitation gone, he used the slick wetness still coating his fingertips to lubricate the tip of his cock before placing it against her core.

He could feel the heat from her body all around him. He wanted more than anything to push into her, to feel her body wrapped around his, but he hesitated. He watched her squirm in anticipation, loving the adorable way her brow creased as she yearned for his touch, and he licked his lips at the soft whimper that escaped hers. The smell of her arousal had his head swimming but he forced himself to wait. He wanted to hear her say the words. When she finally opened her eyes he held her gaze with his smouldering amber orbs. Her eyebrows rose up in silent question and he teasingly ran his cock through her slick folds. Kagome closed her eyes and whimpered softly at his touch. Lowering his head he allowed his warm mouth to kiss a fiery trail from the tops of her breasts to the apex of her neck. Taking her earlobe between his teeth he nibbled on it gently before whispering huskily in her ear, "I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want Kagome."

The feeling of his warm breath cascading across her bare skin caused a ripple of goosebumps to rise up on her exposed flesh. The raw sound of his voice in her ear sent shivers rippling down Kagome's spine. She wanted him, Kami did she want him! Without waiting for a response he bent his head to capture one perky nipple between his teeth. He gently nipped and lapped at it before pulling it into his mouth with a greedy suck. When he abandoned the first nipple to make his way to the second she tried to manoeuvre herself so she could thrust against him. Pulling away slightly Inuyasha shook his head tauntingly and gave a sharp nip to the rosy nipple within his grasp.

"Play nice. Tell me you want it and it's all yours," he demanded. Kagome remained stubbornly silent as she debated which of them would win the test of wills. She knew he wanted it as badly as she did but the cocky bastard was just so damn stubborn! When his mouth latched onto her breast again she couldn't help but arch her back into him, her fingers tunnelling into his silver hair.

"Inuyasha…please…I need you!" she practically begged, her voice barely more than a throaty moan. Apparently those few words were all he needed to hear. The last syllable had only just left her lips when he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. A deep, throaty groan emerged from the bowels of his throat as he drew back for another powerful thrust and Kagome offered him an identical one in return. Arching her back into him, she felt her innermost muscles grip hard at his length in an effort to pull him deeper.

Inuyasha gasped at the feeling of her tight core wrapping him in all its warm, wet, pulsing goodness. _Holy fucking shit…_The firm grip of her muscles extracted another breathy moan from his lips as he slowly withdrew and thrust in again. "Shit…you feel so damn good!" His muscles shivered as the sensation of each thrust washed over him in wave after powerful wave. He'd never felt anything this amazing! The powerful scent of her arousal, the slick juices that lubricated his thrusts, the whimpers and moans he was extracting from her, all of it combined to nearly overwhelm his demonic senses. He had to fight against his inner beast just to maintain some semblance of control. He wanted to enjoy this. If his beast took over it would end up becoming another night of mindless sex he couldn't remember come morning. This time he wanted more. Reaching down he interlocked his fingers with hers and held her hands prisoner above her head while he assaulted her neck with sensuous kisses. Tilting her head to the side she submitted, allowing him to do as he pleased to her body.

Kagome was helpless to do anything but enjoy the steady build up of pressure in her loins that only pulsed stronger with each thrust he pushed into her. She felt him relentlessly hit that one spot hidden deep within the recesses of her body again and again and again and she couldn't hold back the loud moans that escaped from her lips. "Kami…Inu…Yasha…harder!" She knew her words were barely coherent but she didn't care. She knew he understood what she meant by the way he quickened his pace to match the frantic rate of her breathy pants. She couldn't control the steadily increasing volume of her moans as her body blocked out everything but for the unrelenting pulse of his cock burying itself inside of her.

At the very moment she thought she was ready to explode he withdrew from her and in one fluid motion switched their positions and impaled her once more on his shaft. Surprised and enthralled to find herself suddenly on top, Kagome shot the Detective a lusty stare and easily took control. Rocking her hips forward to grind against him she listened with satisfaction to the sound of his needy groans and relished the way his claws pricked into the flesh of her hips as he pulled her down hard against him as his hips thrust upwards into her.

Dragging his claws lightly across her hips, Inuyasha brought his thumb to her clit and began to massage it in slow clockwise circles as she rode him. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of her lean frame and he watched mesmerized as her breasts bounced in time with the rest of her. He wanted to push her back down again and take one of those perky nipples back into his mouth to lap at it with his tongue, but he held off. Whatever she was doing felt far too good to stop now. As if she'd read his mind Kagome brought her own hands up to cup her breasts, kneading them in her tiny palms as her screams grew steadily louder.

The sight of her touching herself almost made him cum right then and there, but Inuyasha forced his body to bend to his stubborn will. He would not allow himself to break in the submissive position. Though it seemed old fashioned, even to him, it was completely against his nature to disobey his animalistic side. With a dangerous growl he tossed her next to him on the bed and rolled away. Standing beside the bed, his angry cock throbbing with need, he ordered her to get on her hands and knees. She cocked an eyebrow at him curiously but did as he asked and rested on all fours facing away from him.

As he watched her Inuyasha absently rubbed the drop of precum that leaked from the tip of his cock before giving it a few gentle strokes. He was close…so close. _Just a little bit more…_Stepping up behind her he positioned himself at her entrance before slamming into her. She let out a surprised cry at the suddenness of his thrust but he was pleased to hear it quickly dissipate into a moan as he held her hips steady and pumped into her at an antagonizing slow pace. Once she reached out to brace her palms flat against the wall for support he threw caution to the wind and pounded into her relentlessly.

He was so close now he could practically feel his cock throbbing inside of her but he refused to allow his body to release until she reached hers. Bringing his index finger to his lips he popped it into his mouth and laved at it with his tongue. Reaching around her hips he rested his palm flat against her pelvic bone and used his freshly lubricated digit to massage her clit. He smirked at the steady flow of curses, moans and half screams that tore from her lips and continued his ministrations with renewed vigour, determined to bring her to completion. He could smell it now, she was close, just a little bit more…

Dropping her head back Kagome let her eyelids drift closed and gave her body up to the rhythm of his movements. She felt the coil that had been tightening inside the pit of her stomach wind the tiniest bit tighter and knew she was about to break. "Inuyasha…I'm gonna cum..." was all she managed to gasp out before the coil snapped and she was engulfed in wave after wave of scorching heat. Her body jerked and shuddered against each thrust he continued to push into her until her limbs felt like jelly and her head hung low between her shoulders.

Inuyasha's claws bit into her hips and a primal growl sounded from his throat as the pulsing and quivering of her muscles encased him, urging him to completion. The powerful scent of the fresh wave of juices slickening her channel pushed him over the edge. Pulling her against him with one final thrust he exploded inside of her and gave himself up to the powerful climax that shuddered through his body. He felt his energy slowly evaporate each time his cock pulsed, emptying his seed itself into her.

With a satisfied moan he withdrew slowly before lazily crawled to lie next to her on the bed. His mind was blank, his body numb, and all he could think to himself was that that was by far the best sex he'd ever had. Blowing out his breath slowly through pursed lips he turned to look at the woman who had just gifted him with such a powerful orgasm. Her eyes were sultry as they locked with his and without hesitation she curled up next to him, laying her head against his chest. His arm wrapped around her easily, naturally, his claws finding a home beneath her shoulder as he traced his fingertips up and down her arm in a soothing caress.

"That was…" he began, but soon realized his brain had yet to turn itself back on.

"Amazing?" Kagome offered with a satisfied grin and he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah… I mean, shit if I knew you were that good I would've done you sooner," he joked, though in the back of his mind a little voice told him that he was definitely serious. Hell, if knew his little firecracker of a reporter would be just as fiery in bed he would've turned on the charm a whole lot sooner.

Kagome scoffed and playfully slapped him on the chest. "You're such a pig!"

With a chuckle Inuyasha haphazardly shrugged his shoulders. Regarding her secretly for a moment and was surprised to feel his heart clench within his chest. For the first time in a long time there was something good in his life, now all he had to do was make sure he didn't screw it up. Leaning down he placed a gentle kiss on her brow and moved his fingertips to her hair to drag his claws through it in slow languid strokes.

"I'm surprised," she began hesitantly as she turned her head to glance up at him. "You haven't had a smoke the whole time you've been here. You must be dying!" He shrugged again in response and attempted to play it cool, all the while hiding the smirk that wanted to burst out.

"Yeah, I quit," he answered nonchalantly. "I heard a rumour they were bad for you or something." At the dubious look on Kagome's face he barked out a laugh and pulled her in closer to him. "What?" he asked innocently, putting on his best choir boy face.

"Whatever. I'll believe that when I see it! No smoking in my apartment got it? I don't spent 100 000 yen a month on this place to have it smelling like an ash tray!"

Inuyasha laughed again and suddenly wished he did have a cigarette tucked behind his ear just so he could light it up to piss her off. He loved getting her riled up. The fire in her eyes when she was really steaming mad at him made him rock hard in an instant. The laughter dying from his eyes he fixed her with a more serious look.

"Seriously though, I did quit. I couldn't smell a damn thing…but I guess that was the whole point…"

His voice trailed off as he remembered the circumstances under which he'd taken up the habit to begin with. The face of a girl, not unlike the warm one curled in his embrace, flashed before his eyes and he felt an icy shiver run down his spine. She was why he'd turned into such a trainwreck. It was because of her that he'd spent the better part of the past five years as a chain smoking alcoholic. But he didn't hate her for it, just himself for being such a failure. Even now, the guilt continued to weigh heavy on his heart. He'd utterly screwed up and she'd paid for it with her life.

Kagome instantly noticed the far away look that crept into the Detective's golden eyes and wondered what he was thinking about. She brought her hand up to rest against his chest and was surprised to feel his heart pounding hard against her palm. Lifting her gaze to his once more she called out his name questioningly. A long moment of silence stretched between them as he remained lost in his own thoughts. Just as she was about to speak up once more he cut her off.

"I started so I wouldn't have to smell her scent everywhere." Kagome knew instantly which "her" he spoke of. Kikyo. The girl who'd died all those years ago under his watch. She was just a ghost now, a memory, but she could tell from the pained look in his eyes that she still haunted him. Wrapping her arm around his torso in a sort of half hug, she laid her head back down against his chest and listened to him speak.

"It just permeated everything, ya know – my clothes, my bed, my apartment, the office, she was just everywhere and I couldn't handle it. Every time I breathed her in I remembered that night and it was driving me insane. I figured out real quick that the tobacco dulled my sense of smell and alcohol dulled the pain so I used both to get by."

"Why'd you quit? Why now, I mean?" Kagome asked curiously as her index finger traced tiny concentric circles along his breastbone. Snatching her hand up, he brought her fingertips to his lips and kissed them gently before setting them back down. She saw his hesitation and felt the subtle tensing of the muscles in his shoulders and chest. He was obviously uncomfortable, a result of his never divulging anything personal about himself to anyone, but he continued anyways.

"I wanted to know you…your scent, I mean," he confessed. There was no sarcasm, and no cocky bravado behind his words, just a brutally honest truth. Kagome was taken aback by the comment but quickly reminded herself that he was half dog demon. Apparently he'd inherited certain canine characteristics along with his demonic attributes after all. _Well that makes things interesting…_ she thought dubiously. She was more than a little disturbed while pondering just how powerful his sense of smell could possibly be, but decided not to dwell on it after realizing she was probably better off not knowing.

After a long moment of silence Inuyasha pushed himself upright and snatched his boxers up off the floor. Shaking invisible traces of dust from the fabric he threaded his legs into the underwear and pulled them up over his hips in one fluid motion. Easing himself back down onto the bed with a sigh he ran his hand distractedly through his long silver mane. He hadn't planned on thinking about Kikyo tonight but somehow her ghost had pushed its way through to destroy his euphoric bliss. Dropping his eyes to the floor he scanned the pile of clothes strewn about in search of his shirt before belatedly realizing he'd left it on the kitchen floor.

"If you put on your pants on so help me I'll castrate you right here and now!"

In his distracted state of mind he'd forgotten all about the naked girl sitting behind him. Turning to glance at her over his shoulder he inwardly winced at the look of simmering rage in her eyes. The tone in her words was like pure ice and crawled over his flesh like the first sharp burn of a winter wind.

"I just figured-," he began but was quickly cut off by another threatening glare. Crossing her arms in front of her still perfectly round, naked breasts she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You just figured what? That you could drop by, sleep with me, and then take off? Do I look like a two dollar hooker to you? God you are such an asshole! I can't believe-"

Her tirade was cut short by the crush of Inuyasha's lips against hers. Pinning her to the bed, he held her prisoner as he thrust his tongue past her lips to silence her with a kiss. He didn't relent until her body relaxed beneath his. When he finally pulled away her eyes were still burning with anger but they were alight with lust as well. He suppressed a cocky smirk, knowing that it would only make her more irate, and lowered his mouth to her ear.

"I can think of much better uses for that tongue than bitching. I never said I was leaving, but if you want me to stay I suggest you direct me to the nearest shower and put yourself in it. I have every intention of fucking you senseless, or at least until you can't stand, whichever comes first. You in?"

The husky tone in his voice sent a powerful wave of lust coursing through her. _How was it possible that just the sound of his voice is enough to make me wet with desire?_ Lifting her eyes to his, she swallowed the lump of unspoken words stuck in the back of her throat. All she could do was nod in agreement with her mouth hanging agape.

"You better shut that mouth of yours before I get tempted to put something in it," he quipped before scooping her up off the bed. Realizing that her situation was hopeless, Kagome decided her only option was to indulge. Draping her arms around her hanyou's neck she hastily pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss, which he returned eagerly as carried her out into the hall. Stopping just outside her bedroom door he pressed her back up against the wall and pushed his rapidly hardening member against the wet heat of her core.

Breaking away from her lips Inuyasha nipped and suckled at the sensitive skin along her neck, his tongue leaving a fiery trail in its wake. When his lips reached her ear he traced the delicate skin of the shell with his tongue, a move which had the immediate effect of making the girl in his arms shiver with delight.

_Holy mother of god…he can tell when I'm turned on. Well isn't that just…completely unfair!_

"Bathroom," he demanded as he ground his hips against hers to demonstrate his growing need.

Her mouth had gone dry but she somehow managed to force the words out. Digging her fingers into the hard muscles of his back she groaned as his teeth found her nipple.

"Oh Kami… Second door on the left and don't you dare stop!"

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Since this is my first official attempt at a lemon I would really appreciate feedback. If anyone out there has any tips, suggestions, recommendations, comments, etc. I would love to hear them!


	10. Decisions

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 10

- Decisions -

In a too-small apartment hidden within the heart of the Minami-Aoyama district, a shower spurted to life. The water thundered loudly against the glossy porcelain base of the tub and echoed off the monochromatic tiles decorating the walls. Kagome was thankful for the reassuring white noise, it drowned out the defeated sigh that escaped her lips. She raked her fingers through her hair for the hundredth time since entering the bathroom, and finally clasped her hands behind her neck to stop herself from doing it again. Closing her weary eyes and letting out a soft groan, she rested her forehead against the wall. _Now what?_ she asked herself silently.

She'd been tossing and turning for the better part of the last hour trying to figure out what it was exactly she was going to DO about the man sleeping in her bed. Now that she was preparing to step into the shower she was no closer to an answer than she'd been an hour earlier.

Their night together had been… Kami it'd been amazing, even she couldn't deny it. It'd been a long time since she'd let herself fall into this trap - the relationship trap, that is. She didn't do relationships. They'd never been her thing and she tended to do them poorly whenever she did make an effort to be in them. As a general rule, she didn't mix business with pleasure. She'd spent the last several years of her career skipping from one brief fling to the next without a second thought as to who she left behind. It was her way and it kept life uncomplicated; it'd worked out just fine - till now.

This time things were bound to get messy. If she let her emotions get involved she was stuck. A nagging voice in the back of her mind (that sounded remarkably like her mother) reminded her that in order to achieve what she wanted out of life, to become the world renowned journalist she'd always dreamed of becoming, she would have to make sacrifices. She'd already made dozens to get where she was. What was one more? The longer she thought about it the more likely it seemed that the Detective was destined to become the latest sacrificial lamb on the altar of her career.

She'd always managed to convince herself that they were worth it, that they had all been necessary means to a great end. She'd sat back and told herself she didn't care as friend after friend got married and moved off to start families. She told herself that she preferred being alone and that she didn't need a man to make her happy, all of that proto-feminist bull, but now reality was starting to hit and it was hitting hard. She was nearly 25, a university graduate, a successful journalist, and completely, utterly _alone._

Opening her eyes, Kagome watched the steam curl in wispy tendrils over the top of the shower curtain. The scariest part of it all was that it actually had potential. They had chemistry, he was attractive, and when he was near her she felt something she'd never felt in her life - safe. Unwillingly, her mind brought her back to that day they'd spent trapped in the elevator. She'd been petrified, literally scared for her life, and yet somehow he'd calmed her with just a touch. With a brush of his lips against hers she'd been his.

Just when she thought she was making progress by focusing on every idiosyncrasy of his personality that irked her, and there were _many_, a moment would flash before her mind and she would be forced to pause once more to reconsider. The elevator, their meeting in the alleyway when he'd put his jacket over her shoulders, the time he'd caught her as she'd stumbled down the steps of the precinct. Since the day they'd met he'd been there for her when she hadn't even realized she'd needed him. After surviving on her own for so long she'd practically forgotten what it felt like to need someone.

As she stepped beneath the scalding spray of water Kagome gasped at the intensity of the heat. To her dismay, the scalding water didn't remove the lingering feeling of his hands from her body - far from it. The heat reminded her of the one fact she'd been trying desperately to forget - the sex had been incredible. She'd never felt anything so erotic, so passionate... For a brief moment she seriously questioned her sanity for even considering giving it up, but reality reared its ugly head once more.

_It could never work between you two_, her brain told her and it had a point. It wasn't like they ever got along. Sure, he was good looking and the sex was mind blowing, but he pissed her off nearly every second his lips weren't locked on hers and that was hardly a good way to begin any kind of relationship. Hell, she wasn't even sure if he liked her beyond the whole wanting to get in her pants thing.

Closing her eyes she tilted her head back to let the water beat down upon her head. _It has to end_. She repeated this thought sternly to herself as she dragged her hands over top of her hair. She tried to reassure herself that it was nothing more than meaningless sex to him to ease the sting, but she couldn't deny the connection she'd felt the previous night. While they were seated at her tiny kitchen table he'd entrusted her with his darkest secret. That had to _mean_ something, didn't it?

Letting out a tiny growl, Kagome pounded her fist against the tile in frustration. Why did this have to be so damn hard? All she wanted to do was make a clean break and suddenly here she was feeling guilty. She'd never felt guilty about ditching a man before so why now? What was so different about this one? _The difference is you actually like this one._

Kagome opened her eyes as a pair of familiar hands looped around her waist. A warm mouth pressed against the side of her neck and her eyes slowly drifted closed once more.

"Mind if I join you?"

Kagome bit back a moan and did her best to block out images of their shower together the previous night. She wanted to turn around in his arms and lose herself in his honey coloured eyes, but she couldn't, not now, not ever again. She had to make him understand that this thing between them, whatever it was, couldn't happen.

"Actually I do," she tried to snap, but her voice came out sounding like a playful taunt.

"Are you sure about that?" he purred as he dragged his fingers down the smooth planes of her stomach. She could hear the contended rumbles in his chest as he smelled her arousal and his smooth hard length pressed against her back. Clenching her jaw to muster some courage, she slapped his hand away and pushed him backwards.

"Look, can't you take a hint? If I wanted you here I would've woken you up."

She didn't want to face him but knew she'd have to eventually. Biting the bullet, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, put on her bitchiest expression and whipped around. The look he gave her made her stomach twist up with guilt. He was utterly confused, having no clue what he'd done to incur her wrath. He withdrew his outstretched arms and a scowl darkened his features. It was the same look he'd given her on the first day they met at the _Asahi Shimbun_ building. It hit her like a slap to the face and she realize then the mistake she'd made.

"What's your deal? Or do you just like playing 'em hot and cold?" He gave her a snide look and then backed up beneath the streaming water to soak his hair.

Kagome watched him drag his fingers though his silver locks and tried to keep her eyes trained on his face. All they really wanted to do was ogle his nakedness from the neck down. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tapped her fingers against her arm and waiting impatiently for him to open his eyes. When he finally glanced down at her, a look of self satisfaction written across his features, she suddenly felt less guilt-ridden about the whole thing. Maybe she had been looking too far into things. Any guy could play the pity card if they knew it would get them laid. Had she really fallen for one of the oldest pick ups in the book? No, she knew better. He couldn't have faked what she'd seen last night. The fact that he'd told her his secret then only made his indifference now hurt all the more.

"What do you think you 're doing?" she demanded tersely, her frustration and confusion slowly building.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing, Genius? I'm taking a shower."

"I was in here first. You can't just barge in and take over! But that's your style right? To Hell with everyone else? You're a real piece of work _Takahashi_." She stressed the syllables of his last name, making sure there were no doubts about the fact that they were no longer on intimate terms. She thought that would've been enough of a hint for him to get the message, but she was wrong as usual.

As she attempted to push past him he grabbed her by the arms and held her against the wall.

"My name's Inuyasha, or did you forget? Hard to believe since you were screaming it all last night," he reminded her with a cocky grin.

Kagome rolled her eyes and struggled against his grip but he held her fast. For the time being she was struck, an unwilling prisoner of his piercing golden gaze. The fire burning in their honey depths told her loud and clear that he was none to pleased with her antics.

"Oh get over yourself," she chided and struggled again. He wasn't going to let her off that easily. Pushing her hard into the unforgiving tile wall he brought his lips crashing down against hers in a rough kiss. Using her surprised gasp to his advantage he plunged his tongue into her mouth and dominated it, nearly bringing her to her knees. There was nothing romantic about the kiss. It was brutal and hard. He was punishing her for rejecting him while proving his own power over her at the same time. In its wake she was helpless.

"I knew you were full of shit," he snickered as he pulled back and dropped his hands from her arms. He barely had time to enjoy his conquest before she lashed out and slapped him hard. Her eyes burned dark with anger but she couldn't hide the lust brewing in their depths and he read it loud and clear.

"It's not nice to hit," he teased as he stole her hand and pressed it firmly against the tile wall. He made a move to kiss her again but she turned her face away.

"Stop."

The begging tone in that single word made him pause and he allowed his eyes to study her more closely. She was breathing heavily and he could feel her trembling beneath his hold. The dark circles beneath her eyes told him she hadn't slept a wink either. His brows drew low with concern, but he realized she would never confess what was really troubling her. Women never liked to do things the easy way. Normally he wouldn't give a shit, but this time it was different.

There was something about this girl that made him feel half mad and totally reckless whenever she was around. Some part deep inside of him realized that he needed her. She would keep him grounded, she'd be the key to putting his life back on track. Without even trying she'd pulled him out of the rut he'd been wallowing in for months. The booze was gone, the smokes too... Hell, he'd even bought some new shirts and tidied up his apartment a little. He'd done all of it because of her her. Not that she knew about any of it, of course, but he'd done it just the same.

Almost from the day they'd met he'd felt like he had to prove himself to her and though he'd shunned the idea at first he found himself wanting to do it now. He wanted to see admiration in her eyes when she looked at him. He wanted to see lust, happiness, and maybe someday love. In a matter of a weeks she'd turned his entire world on its head. Her date with Kouga and the jealousy that had made him want to throttle the wolf had brought it to his attention loud and clear. This was something he wanted, something he knew he wouldn't fail at. All he needed was for her to give him the chance to prove that he could be the sort of man she wanted him to be.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers in a feather light caress. They moved then to the shell of her ear.

"Why are you doing this Kagome?" he pleaded, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the hissing water. "Your mouth is saying one thing and your lips are telling me another."

She wanted to break. She wanted to give in and tell him everything, to let him have her all over again, but she couldn't. _Think of your career, think of your reputation as a journalist_, she reminded herself, but all the while her heart kept asking, _Is work all there is to your life? Don't you deserve to be happy too? _

Closing her eyes she responded with a cold, "I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Make an exception," was his equally curt reply. There was no room for argument. He knew what he wanted and by Kami he was going to have it.

Growling with frustration, she pushed his body away from her and hastily stepped out of the shower.

"Look, just because you like to bend the rules doesn't mean it works for all of us. You made an exception and you got burned. I'm already playing with fire as it is. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. I never should've let things go this far!"

"Don't I get a say in any of this? Shit, Kagome. I knew you were a stubborn bitch but this takes the cake. The way I see it you're scared."

At her look of indignation he nodded his head and pressed her harder, realizing that he was finally getting somewhere. "That's right, you're scared. You're scared shitless that this might actually turn out to be something good."

Realizing she was being backed into a corner Kagome scrambled to her own defence. Raising her voice she flailed her hands in the air above her head and practically shouted, "And what exactly is THIS? What? Please tell me cause I'd LOVE to know. Last time I checked we could barely tolerate each other and now suddenly you think we should be in some kind of relationship? Are you delusional? I guess all those years of abusing the bottle finally caught up with you."

Inuyasha bristled at her words. He couldn't believe how badly he'd misjudged the situation. He'd thought that maybe she was interested. Hell she'd given him every sign, hadn't she? Yet she had the balls to stand there now and tell him there wasn't a chance? Feeling his anger and frustration rising, he narrowed his eyes at her and slowly shook his head. With a scoff and a look of disgust he replied, "Yeah I guess I am delusional to think that girls like you would be interested in guys like me. My mistake."

Without waiting for a response, he threw open the bathroom door and stepped into the cool hallway. Storming into the bedroom he threw on his boxers and jeans, pausing only as long as he had to to slide his belt through all the loops and clasp it into place.

He felt her hovering in the doorway and kept his back to her as he dressed. Even though he wanted her more than he'd wanted anyone in a long time, he wasn't about to resort to grovelling. He was an idiot to have thought she'd be interested in the first place. She was beautiful, successful, and smart and he was nothing but a failure. It was hard enough to live with that knowledge on a daily basis, he didn't need her to stand on her gilded pedestal and point it out to him as well.

Without a word he pushed past her and headed for the kitchen to retrieve his shirt and hat. It took until he opened her front door for her to finally say something.

"Inuyasha, wait!"

He paused with his back to her and held his breath. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased when she apologized softly and he slowly turned to look at her. With women like her, reverse psychology was the only way to get through to them. He'd made her think that he didn't want her, that he was done with her and suddenly here she was apologizing and asking him to stay when five minutes ago she couldn't get him out the door fast enough.

Keeping his poker face in place he crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned one shoulder against the wall. He fixed her with an impassive stare from beneath the brim of his hat and waited impatiently for her to go on. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and stared hard at the counter, unable to meet his gaze.

"I don't do the whole relationship thing. It's never really worked for me," she offered with a half-hearted shrug.

Her hair had begun to dry into damp ringlets that clung to her cheeks. She almost resembled a drowned rat - a sexy, feisty, irresistible drowned rat that a certain part of his anatomy seemed to have no problems being attracted to. Inuyasha crossed his legs at the ankles in an effort to hide the growing tightness in his jeans, making his pose seem even more nonchalant. After a moment of tense silence she finally lifted her dark eyes to meet his and he had to remind himself to keep breathing.

"Well if it's the idea of a relationship that has you spooked then we'll date instead," he suggested smoothly. Sliding off the wall he sidled towards her, a rueful smile growing on his lips. He watched her slowly back away from him, her eyes darting between him and the still half opened door. He could see her mind working, calculating, debating and resisting before finally, reluctantly, considering his proposition.

"What do you mean by 'date'?"

He gave another careless shrug. "Well it's simple - I'll say 'Do you wanna have dinner sometime?', you'll say 'That sounds nice'. We'll eat, make small talk, argue about something stupid and end the night at your place or mine, preferably naked and satiated if you catch my drift."

"I see. And just what makes you think I want to date you?" she challenged, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin defiantly.

He pulled himself against her and rested one clawed hand on her hip while the other sank into her hair and turned her head to the side. With her ear next to his lips he answered, "Because when I touch you, your breath quickens; when I speak to you, your pulse races."

He slid his fingertips over the raging pulse in her neck to make his point.

"I can smell the scent of your arousal on your skin, Kagome. I know you want this, so stop being such a stubborn bitch and just say yes."

_Damn his demon senses, damn him being right, damn that smug, self-assured, cocky smile…_she thought. Annoyed as she was at his presumptuous words, she couldn't deny the truth behind them. Turning her head against his hand, she faced him and swallowed hard. For a moment they stood in silence, feeling the heat of each other's breath against their cheeks.

Kagome licked her lips and slowly lifted her lashes, bracing herself to meet his intense amber gaze once more. He wasted no time pulling her mouth to his. With a quick move of her hands his hat went crashing to the floor and her fingers expertly massaged his ears. She'd discovered last night just how sensitive they could be. The slightest touch was enough to-

With a hiss Inuyasha broke from their kiss and leaned into her touch.

"Gods Kagome, you're gonna kill me if you keep doing that."

Wearing a satisfied smile she relented and used her hands to tear off his shirt instead. It fluttered to the floor, where it'd spent more of the previous night.

"You won't be needing that anymore," she laughed and then turned her attentions to his cumbersome belt. He raised an eyebrow at her and then whipped off her towel . One moment she was embraced by its damp warmth and the next the chilled kitchen air was wafting over her naked skin. Stunned, she blinked slowly and dropped her gaze to the towel in his claws. It dropped to the floor in a heap of blue terrycloth.

"You won't be needing that, either."

All playfulness was gone the moment their bodies met. Their hands explored in a frenzy, as if they were hardly able to touch enough of one another to be satisfied. Their lips moved from cheek, to neck, to chest, to ear, to lip with hardly a moments hesitation. There was nothing languid or romantic about this. It was carnal, it was needy, it was lust in its purest form and they had no choice but to bow to it. Hands, lips, tongues, they were little more than a tangle of limbs by the time they finally joined. With hard, jerking thrusts they possessed one another, took control and gave it back. As their climaxes neared their moans and grunts sounded in unison, becoming louder, stronger, ever faster to match the pace of their love making. Finally after what seemed an eternity of waiting, wanting and longing, their bodies weary from exertion and slickened with a sheen of sweat and juices reached their simultaneous release on a crashing wave of ecstasy.

With endorphins coursing through their veins, satisfied smiles danced across their lips and their every muscle relaxed into a pleasantly satiated pool of jelly. Inuyasha set Kagome down atop the counter to give the muscles in his arms a rest and gratefully rested his forehead against hers while he caught his breath. He was certain of it now – this woman would be the death of him.

While their breathing slowly returned to normal the pair took a moment to enjoy the comfort of each others' embrace. Kagome dragged her fingers through Inuyasha's nearly dried silver locks and glanced at the still open door.

_I can't believe I just had sex with him with the door open. I wonder what Mama would say about this?_

The thought sent a smirk to her lips and a giggle tearing up her throat. She quickly stifled it with her hand and Inuyasha gave her a quizzical look. She brushed him off with a flip of her hand and a shake of her head.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking that this whole dating thing doesn't seem so bad. I suppose I could give it a shot."

"I thought you might come around."

He pulled slowly out of her embrace, but not before leaving a lingering kiss on her lips. After taking a moment to button his pants, he made his way to the front door and kicked it shut. When he returned to the kitchen he found Kagome still sitting naked atop the counter. With her hands braced on either side of her and her feet kicking aimlessly at the air she appeared so at ease. He couldn't stop the genuine smile that graced his lips as her eyes snapped up to meet his and he was surprised to see her return it. It was the first real, honest smile she'd ever given him and it was radiant.

"You know, part of this whole dating process is dessert," he reminded her coyly as he stalked towards the fridge. "I think we're well overdue for some!"

"It's 4:30 in the morning. Where the hell are we gonna get dessert at this time of night?"

Pausing at the refrigerator, Inuyasha raised his eyebrows at her question and popped open the freezer. Reaching into the back he retrieved her hidden stash of Triple Brownie Overload and held it up triumphantly.

"How's Triple Brownie Overload sound?"

Her eyes brightened and she grabbed two spoons from the drawer. Holding the ice cream in one hand and the spoons in his mouth, Inuyasha snatched her up off the counter and carried her purposefully back to the bedroom. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck, Kagome planted a secret kiss against his skin and smiled.

_I could definitely get used to this. _

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Sorry to keep you guys waiting on this chapter. I re-wrote it about three times before I was satisfied with it and even then it ended up going in a different direction than I thought it would. Like that last hentai sex scene? TOTALLY unplanned, but what can ya do right? Until next time!


	11. Meet Trouble

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 11

- Meet Trouble -

It was the last Sunday in November. The air was a nippy 6 degrees, the sky was grey and overcast, the wind bitter but Inuyasha Takahashi was - dare he say it? – happy. His golden eyes watched a small scattering of snow flurries descend from the clouds and dance momentarily upon the back of the wind before meeting their untimely demise upon the cement sidewalk below.

Beneath the fedora that took up permanent residence atop his head, two white, furry dog ears twitched and turned towards the sound of Paul McCartney's latest adult contemporary melody pumping through the ceiling speakers. It was definitely not to his taste. Neither was the overpriced, hoity-toity American coffee shop he sat in, but it was her thing so he went along with it. The chairs were nice though, he remarked as he eased back into an oversized, tan, butter soft leather lounger.

Unfortunately, not even the comfiest chair could rid him of the painful knot that'd taken up residence between his shoulder blades. He shifted uncomfortably for the tenth time in as many minutes, bashing his knee against the too small table in front of him in the process. He cursed violently under his breath before finally giving up. His eyes narrowed at the lacquered wooden table that'd been his nemesis since he'd first sat down and he seriously considered using his claws to turn it into toothpicks.

He'd been irritable all morning. He hadn't been able to shake the sense of…well…unease would probably be the best word to describe it, that'd followed him since the moment they'd left her apartment. He felt it acutely between his shoulder blades, like a dull knife sticking out of his back; the piercing feeling of a pair of eyes following his every move. If he'd been a dog his hackles would be up, but as a half demon he couldn't do much more than twitch in his seat, take quick glances over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed, and look preoccupied while searching the street for potential stalkers from the comfort of a lounger.

Well, if he was being followed it was his own damn fault for letting his attention slip. Being with the girl had made him complacent and careless. He'd let his somewhat obsessive compulsive habits fall to the wayside in favour of more pleasant activities like coffee dates and sex. Lots of sex…not that he was complaining about the sex of course! He rather liked the whole sex part but it was making him lose focus and if he didn't get back on track it would come back to bite him in the ass.

His eyes began a second sweep of the street, having not found anything substantial the first time around. There was an old man curled over his walking stick moving at a snail's pace through the intersection, a bike messenger darting through traffic, and a business man picking his nose at the stoplight. There was nothing out there to justify his uneasiness, yet he couldn't convince himself he was being irrational. The tranquil peace that'd greeted him upon waking up with Kagome's warm, soft body in his arms was completely shattered and his good mood along with it. The air all around him felt charged with anticipation, the way a forest stands still before a storm.

He wasn't all that surprised he was being followed…hell he kind of expected it. He was actually a touch disappointed it'd taken someone this long to put a hit out on him. You just don't work nearly ten years in Homicide without making a few dozen enemies. He was mildly curious who it was, but in the end it didn't really matter. Whoever the bastard was, he'd be dead the moment he got sloppy.

It was the girl who was a problem now. If it came down to an ambush or a gun battle, there was no way he could keep her from getting caught up in the crossfire. In all honestly, the safest place for her was as far away from him as possible. He'd been chewing over that unappealing thought for the better part of the past hour. He knew he should probably mention something to her but his better judgement advised against it and for just this once he happened to agree with it. It was bad enough he was a walking paranoid, he didn't need to be dating one as well. He'd worked too damn hard to get this far to lose whatever happiness they'd found together because of some slimy con bastard who thought he had the balls to shoot a cop.

On top of that, as if shit wasn't bad enough, his night of weakness was coming up fast. Rubbing a hand over the stubbly growth along his chin he pondered that particular conundrum. He hadn't told her about his night of weakness yet either and was debating whether he should bother. It would be a heck of a lot easier to just avoid her for that night, tell her he had plans, was working late or some other lame excuse. It would save him the awkwardness of having to explain the whys and hows of it all. Plus there was the whole trust issue to consider.

If word got out and into the wrong hands it could destroy him, which was exactly why he hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. As far as he was concerned, the secret died with his parents a decade ago. Though he was finally starting to trust the girl, his jaded heart wasn't convinced he could trust her _enough_. She was a journalist after all! Digging up dark secrets and divulging them to the world as front page news was practically second nature to them. Why would she be any different? She was driven and utterly focused on her career, her thirst for success was part of her charm but it forced him to keep her at a distance.

Landing a big scoop would propel her to instant fame in the world of press junkies and journalists. The question was how bad did she want it? Bad enough to betray him? He wasn't sure…and until he was sure, he couldn't risk it. Not with this, not with details about the cases he was working on, nothing. Then again…it wasn't like she'd asked. She'd never breathed a word that could've been construed as an attempt to dig for clues and she rarely asked him anything personal. He knew he was being overly cautious, a bit obsessive even, but he'd been burned before and he didn't plan on letting it happen again.

Inuyasha snapped out of his dark reverie as soon as he caught sight of the object of his thoughts strutting towards him. Shooting him a warm smile, she set a venti sized coffee cup on the table in front of him and settled herself into the oversized chair across from him. With a delicate sigh she meticulously picked an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt before taking a long sip from her steaming cup. Inuyasha stared suspiciously at the cup in front of him, his eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

"Just try it," she interjected before he had the opportunity to object and turned her attention to the street, her dark eyes darting to follow a neon clad bike messenger winding his way through traffic.

This was her favourite spot. Whenever she needed to think she would come to this coffee shop, order herself a venti cup of Jasmine tea and sit in front of this very window. She often looked to the comings and goings of the street for inspiration when she had to write a particularly challenging piece. Sometimes it was even nicer to just relax and take a step back from it all.

Her eyes watched intently as Inuyasha took a tentative sip from his cup. Even in the grey afternoon light his casual confidence had her heart fluttering. It was truly amazing what a shower and laying off the booze could do for a person. She was glad she had a chance to bring him here. It was almost like being a kid again and sharing your secret fort with a new friend. It was just a coffee shop, and there were dozens exactly like it strewn throughout the neighbourhood, but it was her coffee shop. She was letting him borrow it, letting him step into her secret club house so to speak, even if it was only for a little while. Her club house had been empty of other members for far too long.

As Inuyasha swallowed the coffee and nodded towards her appreciatively, she felt a satisfied smile tug at her lips. She'd wondered while placing the order if she still remembered how he took it, but as it turned out her memory was bang on. She'd always figured him to be a Sumatra kind of guy – intense and earthy; complimented by one milk and one and a half sugars; just enough to take the edge off but not enough to be sweet.

It was so like him – a little rough around the edges but hidden inside was something sweet. Not that she'd exactly seen this sweet side…he was just less of a jerk…sometimes…but she was certain it was there somewhere, hiding deep, deep down in the recesses of his dark, lonely, little heart.

Setting her tea down on the checkerboard tabletop, Kagome folded her hands and fixed him with a pleasant smile, the kind that said she was preparing to ask him for something he would probably rather gouge his eyeballs out with forks than do willingly.

"Say Inuyasha…" her voice was sugary sweet and his ears flattened immediately against his head. Coming from her it sounded so wrong, like hearing a 400 lb Sumo wrestler ask for a diet Coke. He hadn't a clue where this was going but he was already pretty certain he wanted nothing to do with it. He grunted in a half-assed attempt to make it look like he was paying attention and let his gaze drift back to the street.

He heard her sigh in mild frustration at his obvious lack of interest and felt a momentary pang of guilt. Sometimes he was probably a little harder on her than he meant to be, but he knew she could handle it. Otherwise, what the hell was she doing with him? Not wanting to dwell on that particular question he quickly erased all thought of it with another sip of piping hot coffee.

"Since it's only a few weeks before Christmas…" she continued in that same sing song voice, "Do you think that maybe we could-,"

"No." Inuyasha interjected abruptly, levelling her with a face that said loud and clear 'Under NO circumstances will I EVER go Christmas shopping with you!'

"What do you mean no? You don't even know what I'm going to ask!" she demanded haughtily. Her manicured fingers made impatient circles around the rim of her cup and she lifted a contentious eyebrow at his dour expression. The fingernails of her free hand clicked loudly against the lacquered tabletop. She did that last bit just to irritate him, the sound drove him nuts.

"I don't do holidays," he muttered gruffly, shooting daggers at her clacking fingernails with his eyes. With a huff he retreated further into his leather jacket to avoid her piercing gaze.

"What a surprise." Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes he was almost TOO predictable. The bad boy with nobody in the world but himself boycotting holidays because they remind him of the family he didn't have. Kami, it was like reading the poorly written script of a TV Movie!

"You don't need to bite my head off! I was only going to say that since it feels like this city's been taken over by the holiday brigade we should get out of town for the weekend, maybe go up to Hokkaido or something. I hear it's really nice up there this time of year."

"That sounds…nice," the Detective found himself muttered begrudgingly. The idea was appealing – escaping away to a private chalet up on Hokkaido Island without a care in the world sounded pretty fucking amazing at the moment. It would be a chance to get out of the city and away from the nagging feeling of being followed at least. It was also the perfect opportunity to get her out of those bothersome clothes.

At least he'd be honest with her about one thing today - holidays weren't his thing. Christmas and New Years generally consisted of a bottle of JD and a week's worth of vacation spent lost in an alcohol induced haze. After his parents died there was no one left to celebrate the holidays with. The Christmas after that he'd been shot point blank in the chest and spent the better part of six weeks recovering in the hospital.

He'd convinced himself rather easily after that that the holidays were a waste of time and money. He wanted nothing to do with the lot of them. And just like with everything else in his life, being with Kagome had made him start to question how he was living. She brought back wisps of memories from times long ago when he'd actually looked forward to the holidays, with their good food, great friends and fun times. The memories, as distant as they seemed, warmed him and he wondered silently if there would ever be a day when he didn't loathe them. Glancing at the girl out of the corner of his eye he couldn't deny that she made it seem possible.

Kagome's face lit up with surprise and she shot him a relieved smile. "Really? You'd actually go away with me for the weekend? That's a surprise…I thought for sure you'd say No."

Inuyasha groaned under his breath and felt his insides wither. A weekend away sounded great, but his night of weakness loomed its big, nasty face Saturday night. There was no way to get around it besides cancelling the whole weekend. Not wanting her to catch on that something was amiss he gave her a dismissive shrug and barked out, "You didn't let me finish wench! I said that sounds nice but I can't do it. Some of us work remember? I've got six open cases and they won't get solved by high-tailing it to Hokkaido for the weekend!"

He winced inwardly at the way her eyes darkened and her bright smile immediately dipped into a frown. Despite his reluctance to deny her anything, the omnipresent scowl on his face didn't falter.

"You're so impossible sometimes! What's a weekend? It's not like you've done anything glorious with your cases yet and it's been how many months now? Face it, you're scared that a weekend away means commitment or some guy bullshit like that and you're using your "cases" as a lame ass excuse. If you don't want to go you can at least tell me straight up. Don't pussyfoot around because you think I'd rather hear that lame crap than the truth!"

Her dark eyes burned bright with her ire and she clutched the cup of tea tightly in her hand. A couple of other patrons glanced curiously at her, taking note of the way her voice steadily rose in volume but she ignored them. Well hell, if he could make a scene whenever he pleased then so could she! Despite being annoyed, she felt mildly satisfied at the way he squirmed beneath her piercing glare.

"Whatever. Think what you want. Instead of spending my time at the precinct or the lab I've had this annoying bitch calling me up every other night to go to the movies or have coffee or some other annoying datey thing. How the hell am I supposed to get any work done when I've got that shit taking up all my time?"

So yeah, it was a little harsh but if it got her off his case about going away for the weekend then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Besides, it was a sort of half truth. If he wasn't with her he would have more time to work on his cases, but he would also still be a raging alcoholic chain smoker who hated his life and everyone in it. Didn't she know by the very fact that he went out with her at all that he enjoyed her? She made life bearable and fun for a change. It terrified him how quickly he was falling for her.

From the dark glare she was giving him he could only assumed his not so clever ploy had been successful. He could hear her heel tapping noisily against the linoleum floor – a clear indicator she was pissed off, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

"You're such an asshole," she muttered, the quiet tension in her voice revealing her seething anger. He shrugged and looked away, keeping his eyes glued on a blue Volkswagon stopped at the light. Apparently ignoring her was the last straw. He was greeted by a face full of steaming hot jasmine tea before she hissed bitterly into his ear, "Have a great weekend, I know I will." Without waiting for a response she turned heel and stormed out of the shop, the door chime dinging merrily behind her.

_Son of a bitch!_ was all Inuyasha could think as he glanced down at the rivulets of tea dripping off his jacket and seeping into his shirt. The scent of Jasmine wafted into his overly sensitive nose and he snorted indignantly. Roughly flicking several large droplets off his sleeve, he shot the other patrons a murderous glare, telling them in so many words to mind their own damn business. With a growl he snatched up a pile of napkins and swiped them over his sleeves and torso but they didn't help much. He was soaked through and all because of that stupid bitch and her temper.

Growling again he dropped the sopping mess of napkins onto the table and made a move to leave. She wanted him to follow her and apologize - like hell that was happening! She could come crawling back to _him_ this time. Maybe she really could use a weekend away from him – to come to her senses!

Muttering a string of foul curses he stormed furiously out the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges when he forced it open. Pausing at the curb he glanced left, the direction Kagome had stormed off in. Her apartment was about two blocks north, not much of a walk if he chose to go. He contemplated it seriously for a moment before straightening his shoulders and turning south. Damn bitch had to learn her place. In a few days she'd come crawling back, he just had to be patient.

With that thought resting confidently in his mind he stalked briskly down the sidewalk and hailed the nearest taxi. There were murders to solve, witnesses to interview and thugs to interrogate. There was work to be done and he didn't plan on wasting any more time.

xXx

The feeling of chaos that usually permeated the air at the Asahi Shimbun building was noticeably absent. With no company but for the delicate hum of the overhead lights, Kagome quietly browsed through file folder after file folder in search or a source she could use. She had a retinue of reliable men who would tell her anything she wanted to know for money and a bottle of sake. Frowning, she closed yet another folder and set it atop the steadily increasing pile on her desk. She was slowly realizing that none of her regulars would be able to help this time. She'd have to do something she hadn't done since she'd started – seek out new sources.

She'd hoped the Detective would've been a little more forthcoming with his information but thinking back to their disastrous coffee date she realized that he would always be the same stingy, stubborn, asshole. Shaking her head she glared at her computer screen and unknowingly snapped the pencil clenched within her fist. Moments like these were exactly why she'd told herself at the start of this not to get involved. A relationship of any kind was a distraction. She couldn't even say she was just using the sex to get info out of him….he hadn't given her a god damn thing! Not even a little inconsequential tidbit, like a scrap from a table you throw to the begging dog when no one else is looking.

Realizing she'd been stupid to expect anything from him, she opened a new browser window in her trusty laptop and began to scan the news headlines for any lower yakuza members who'd recently been thrown in the clink. Those were usually the easiest to weasel information out of. Lonely, dejected and starving for human (female) contact they tended to cough up anything and everything they knew with very little persuasion. Inwardly she cringed. The thought of seducing the greasy, scrawny two-bit cons who made up this group was nothing short of disgusting. She shuddered at the thought of having to go down THAT particular road again, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She wanted to crack the case and if this was the only way to go about it then so be it.

_This job is so unglamorous sometimes,_ she thought bitterly as she jotted a few new names in her day planner for further investigation.

The sudden shrill ring of her desk phone nearly made her jump out of her skin. Placing a hand over her hammering heart she glared irritably at the tiny red light blinking next to Line 1. Thrusting out her hand she let it hover over the receiver for a moment as she debated whether to waste her time answering it at all. Odds were it was a wrong number and even it if was someone calling in a tip it was probably something juvenile like a car accident witness or some other rookie info. Despite her reservations, she heaved a weary sigh and lifted the receiver to her ear.

"Kagome Higurashi speaking."

For a moment there was nothing and she thought maybe it'd been a wrong number after all but then she heard it, the soft regular huff of breath signalling that there was someone on the other line. She waited a second longer before opening her mouth to repeat her greeting.

"I hear you're looking for info about the Lucky Akida hit," a voice rasped suddenly into the receiver. It sounded slightly distorted, as if by a handkerchief or a hand, but she couldn't tell for sure.

"You heard right. Do you have anything for me?" She kept her voice casual, almost bored sounding. From experience she'd learned that if you sound too eager anonymous sources have a habit of panicking and hanging up. If this guy, whoever he was, had anything that could help her break that Akida case she didn't want to scare him off.

_I'd just love to see the look on that bastard's face when he reads about my latest break in the case in next week's Sunday edition_, she thought to herself with a sneaky grin as images of the Detective covered from head to foot in her steaming hot cup of tea came into view. While reminiscing she realized she still hadn't heard anything from her new best friend on the other line.

He was silent a moment longer, as if debating whether he should go through with his insane plan to reveal all he knew. It wasn't light business to be a source for the press, especially when it had anything to do with the yakuza. They were ruthless and could hold a grudge like no one's business. Lucky had learned the hard way what the consequences were for being a rat and it seemed as if this guy was remembering that fact rather acutely. He waited a moment longer but didn't stutter when he spoke again.

"I have something that might interest you then, for the right price of course."

"Like any business deal I have to hear the goods before I give them a price," she reminded him sharply.

She'd been conned once before by a desperate drug dealer who needed to pay off his debts. She was still green then and had been a little too enthusiastic about hearing what he had to say. She'd been suckered in and when she'd paid him before even hearing a word out of his mouth he'd pistol whipped her and taken off with the money. It was little consolation that the asshole was dead now, died in a hit and run ironically enough, but he'd taught her a valuable lesson.

"Of course. Meet me at Shiba Park in forty-five minutes and I'll talk"

"Should we meet at the temple?" she asked tentatively but the only answer she received was the steady pulse of the line going dead. With a shrug she returned the receiver to its cradle and tapped her pen thoughtfully against her day timer. _Shiba Park...it's not that far._ Her eyes lifted to the clock and she mentally calculated how long it would take to get to the other side of town at this time of night. She'd have to leave now to make it in time and she didn't want to take a chance at being late.

If you were even a minute late most sources tended to bolt, thinking they were being snagged in some elaborate police sting operation. Good sources were so hard to come by. With a sigh she closed her laptop and shrugged into her black polyester jacket. Cinching the belt at her waist she stooped and tore the page with her notes from her day timer. Glancing once more at the clock she snatched up her cell phone, tape recorder and keys and jetted for the door, never thinking for a moment that she should call Inuyasha. Her smug smile said it all. Payback was a bitch and she wanted him to feel it where it would hurt him the most – his pride.

It was exactly forty-eight minutes before she realized just how big a mistake she'd made and forty-nine before she was praying to any god who would listen that he would find her.

xXx

Inuyasha stooped to grab the morning paper and mail from where it'd piled up in front of his apartment door. He'd spent another full night lying awake, the third one in a row, but this last one was more out of habit than anything else. He never slept on the night he turned human. Having his senses dulled like that scared the shit out of him and he didn't want to make it any easier for someone to take him out. It sounded irrational but it was how he'd always done things and he didn't plan on changing his ways any time soon. As radical as they seemed they'd kept him alive on more than one occasion and in his mind that was reason enough to continue.

On this particular night he didn't mind being awake so much. He'd spent the long restless hours going over everything he already knew about the Akida case in the hopes that somewhere along the line he'd be struck with inspiration. So far he hadn't been all that lucky and was beginning to wonder if maybe Akida was cursing him from the grave.

With a sigh he glanced at the morning headlines and briefly skimmed the sports scores. There was nothing there to peak his interest, meaning there was nothing written by his sexy, ill-tempered, MIA reporter. He hadn't seen an article from her in a few days and frankly he didn't give a shit what anyone else wrote. Pushing a chair away from the well worn 1970s era dining room table with his foot, he made to sit down and then thought better of it. Still sifting through his mail he walked in slow, even strides towards the kitchen to make some coffee.

Bills, bills, ads, bills…it was always the same crap. He hated the fact that the only people who ever wrote him were the ones he owed money to. With a sneer he tossed the bills in a pile on the counter and grabbed the murky coffee pot from where it'd sat in the maker, gathering a pleasant layer of mould. He poured the stale brew into the sink and swished some fresh water around the pot in a half assed attempt to clean it.

As he filled the pot to add water to the machine he caught sight of something he hadn't noticed earlier – an envelope addressed to him hidden amongst the stack of bills. With an inquisitive frown he stared at it while pouring water into the coffee maker. Who would send him mail? He snickered at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Kagome had finally come to her senses and sent him an apology. The timing couldn't have been better - he was thisclose to heading over to her place, kami be damned how pathetic it made him look, just to get some action! Shit…he really had no self-discipline what-so-ever.

Still chuckling to himself he snatched the envelope from the bottom of the pile and notice that there was no return address. Well of course not, he knew where she lived. As the coffee maker gurgled and sputtered to life he used the edge of his claw to slice the envelope open. His brows drew low in confusion when he fished his hand inside and felt not a folded piece of paper but a photograph? Closing his fingers around it he slowly drew it out and red the note scrawled onto the back of the Polaroid in black marker – "Guess who?"

He turned the picture over in his hand and felt the floor drop out from under him. The smell of dark roast coffee flooded the tiny kitchen and the sounds of the busy machine drowned out the short, strangled gasps emanating from his open mouth. Frozen, he stared at the image in front of him, burning it into his memory until his eyes watered and he was forced to blink. The picture was reminiscent of a nightmare he'd had one too many times. Kagome was being held up in front of the camera by a pair of burly arms on either side, one of which was fisted into her dark, dishevelled hair to force her head upright. Her mouth was bound and gagged, her blouse torn, her face bloody but all he could focus on was her eyes.

Terror…absolute terror shone in them. Her eyes held him prisoner, practically screaming for him to save her and for a moment he closed his own, praying that somehow this was just another trick his human half was playing on him. It was nothing more than a wicked nightmare. He could rouse himself from it if he only tried hard enough. Opening his eyes once more, he found that he was still standing in his kitchen with the same horrific picture balanced in his palm.

He noticed the tear tracks running down her cheeks and made the grim realization that this was probably exactly how Kikyo looked before her killer had sliced his blade through her tender flesh. Frightened, alone, and beautiful. It was then that the connection dawned on him and with shaking hands he turned the picture over once more to hastily re-read the taunting question… "Guess who?" It took barely a second for him to explode.

"Bastard… You mother fucking bastard!" he screamed into the dead air of the apartment before swiping his arm across the counter and dumping its contents to the floor. His howl of frustration and rage was quickly choked off by an overwhelming feeling of nausea. His human emotions had a tendency to be volatile and even though he was now a hanyou, he could still feel the lingering effects of the previous night's transformation.

As the horrific reality of the situation washed over him his stomach churned hard, forcing him over the sink. And while he waited for the bitter bile to rise into the back of his throat, all he could think was "Not again…"

* * *

_Author's Note:_ So apparently while I was away this fic won Best Alternate Universe on MediaMiner. Pretty snazzy eh? I'm pretty proud of it. It's my first writing award ever woo hoo! That being said, please leave me a review 'cause I'd love to hear what you think (about the chapter, the story, the weather, whatever you like)!

Until next time…


	12. Dancing With the Devil

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 12

- Dancing With the Devil -

Kesuke Yaguro wasn't a bad man. At least, he didn't think so. If he was completely heartless would he feel pity for the slip of a girl tied to the chair in front of him? He didn't think so either. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck and he swiped it off irritably with his hand. No, definitely not. If he was that much of a monster he wouldn't feel anything for her and thankfully he wasn't there quite yet. That didn't mean he never felt pangs of guilt for the things he'd done. They haunted him at night when he slept next to his wife in their quiet suburban home, yet he couldn't deny that he'd chosen this path, pangs of guilt and all.

Nothing in life was free. As long as he continued to play the part of the obedient dog, his family would remain safe and well provided for. As a man who came from humble origins, that was all he could hope for. The yakuza had a way of supporting their own, all you had to do was agree to give yourself over to them body and soul. He wasn't bitter about it; he just missed having the freedom to think for himself once in a while.

Kesuke studied his captive from beneath hooded eyes and brushed his fingers through his shortly cropped hair. He hadn't a clue who she was or what the Boss wanted with her. To be honest, he didn't really care to know. He'd seen dozens of girls like this one, granted most didn't look quite so well kept, but in his mind they were all the same. One after another they were brought in from the street and dealt with. Some were never heard from again and others were released with nothing more than a few bruises. Why should this girl be any different than the rest?

There was something familiar about her though, something that he couldn't quite place and it nagged relentlessly in the back of his mind. Had he seen her somewhere before? With the Boss perhaps? Swiping a meaty hand over his darkly tanned face, Kesuke brushed that thought aside. He didn't have the energy to contemplate such things, not in such suffocating heat anyway. Shaking off a sudden wave of drowsiness he glanced pensively down at his watch. Late… they were always so goddamn late.

With a grunt he rubbed the knuckles on his right hand in a gentle caress. Cocking his head to the side he studied his captive appreciatively, his eyes memorizing the smooth curve of her face. She had such delicate features – a small button nose, large full eyes, rosebud lips – and were it not for the several scratches and swollen purple bruises marring her pale skin he would've thought her to be quite attractive. It would be a true shame to have to break such a beautiful face.

_That face…_ It was something about her face that had his mind whirring and searching for some elusive memory. His eyes narrowed but they couldn't see past the bruises left by her previous rough handling. Perhaps once he heard her speak it would come to him. She hadn't uttered a word though since they'd dumped her here in the early hours of the morning. She hadn't regained consciousness either, for that matter. So it seemed like for the present at least, all he could do was wait.

Slouching back into the tiny folding chair that groaned loudly in protest beneath his solid weight, he eyed the three-quarters empty beer bottle sitting on the floor next to him. With a long suffering sigh he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and snatched the bottle from the floor. The condensation that normally bubbled up on the glass had evaporated into the muggy air and when he took a swig he nearly spit it back out. Piss warm – his favourite. He swallowed the bitter brew down in a single gulp and grimaced painfully at the taste. With a look of dismay and frustration he set the bottle back down and glanced impatiently at his imitation Rolex once again.

Kesuke's eyes were drawn longingly to the large set of double doors at the far end of the store house. He just wanted to get the hell out of here. He felt like a potato baking in a cheap metal oven and he was already sweating like a pig. The fabric of his shirt was drenched and clung uncomfortably to his back and his pants felt overly tight across his thighs. Staring at the girl's pretty face had been distracting for maybe a half hour, but every successive minute after that left him feeling more and more anxious to be home. He could already feel himself starting to resent the pretty captive who'd made him just as much a prisoner as she was.

The hinges of the rusted steel doors at the far end of the store house groaned loudly in protest as they were pushed open. Feeling a blast of frigid air from the winter landscape outside, Kesuke's head shot upright but he quickly cringed. The torturous sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the tin prison and set his teeth grinding together – it was like listening to nails screeching across a chalkboard! He shuddered and glanced up expectantly at his newest guest.

She stood tall in the doorway, her slim figure silhouetted by the glow of the afternoon sun. After getting the nod from her personal retinue of bodyguards, she entered the store house with her back straight and a confident air about her. Her footfall was soft as she walked purposefully towards him; the haughty click of her Prada heels deadened by the inch-thick layer of algae and other assorted substances covering the floor.

Kesuke swallowed convulsively and tried with great effort to keep an expression of disdain from showing on his features. Her blood red eyes hypnotized him, just as they did every other time he saw her, and he found himself unable to look away. He hated everything she stood for, despised her with every fibre of his being and yet he felt himself bowing low to her as she approached. His shoulders tensed as he waited for her to speak to him in that voice that sent chills down his spine.

"Has our little pet been well behaved?" she drawled languidly, her voice echoing in the large room. Without waiting for a response, she walked in slow circles around the girl, studying her intently while one hand worked furiously with her fan to blow the heated air against her face. After a moment she stopped suddenly and faced the girl, snapping her fan shut as she did so. Fixing the captive with a condescending sneer she used the edge of her fan to lift her chin upwards and cast her face into the light.

"Pretty little thing isn't she?" she asked, knowing that no one would answer her. They all feared her and rightfully so, she could destroy them without a second thought. Her ruby stained lips, which never smiled at the best of times, twisted now into a scowl. She didn't like the look of this girl one bit. She looked too much like the other one. Her features darkened as she remembered all to well how much trouble _that_ little bitch had caused.

Without provocation she brutally snatched the girl up by the hair, jerking her head backwards to expose the delicate arch of her neck. When the captive groaned and tried to move her head she held her fast, her fingers buried deep into her ebony locks.

"Wake up!" she demanded impatiently.

The girl groaned and her eyelashes fluttered but remained stubbornly closed. Kagura snapped her fingers impatiently and Kesuke stood wearily, already knowing what she wanted. Stalking over to a far corner of the store house he stuck a metal bucket beneath the lone rusted and leaking tap. He cranked it open and watched dully as the frigid water poured into the bucket below. After a moment's hesitation he dipped his hands beneath the ice cold flow and splashed it across his face.

The frigid water had an immediate cooling effect on his overheated skin and he quickly splashed another handful across it. The relief was brief though and within seconds the muggy air clung thickly to his pores once more. He used the front of his damp t-shirt to swab up the excess water and sweat that dripped off his chin before he turned the tap off.

The handle on the now full bucket squeaked loudly as he walked and water sloshed over the sides with every step to splash across his sneakers. He gave a withering look to the tops of his damp Nikes and sighed in defeat. As if he needed an excuse to be even more uncomfortable just now. He paused before the girl, his face grim, and waited patiently for his cue.

With a sadistic smile on her face Kagura released the captive and stepped backwards. At the same time, she gestured him forward with a graceful sweeping motion from her fan. Another inward sigh was quelled and Kesuke sauntered forward. Lifting the bucket in both hands he heaved its frigid contents directly at the girl, drenching her completely. If she'd been asleep before she certainly wouldn't be now.

Directly on cue, she sucked in a noisy, ragged gasp and screamed bloody murder. Her pained cries echoed loudly off the algae coated tin ceiling and hung ominously in the thick air. Kesuke felt a pang of sympathy as he watched her struggle. He knew exactly what it felt like - like a thousand tiny needles piercing your skin simultaneously. He didn't envy her in the least and sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to drench her again.

"Oh good you're awake."

Kagura's un-emotive voice cut through the heavy silence that followed the girl's outburst. She sneered as she stepped closer to her trembling form, careful to avoid the spreading puddle of fetid water on the floor. Her eyes studied the shivering mass in front of her critically and she began to circle her like a predator does its prey. With a flip of her fan she dismissed Kesuke without a second thought, banishing him once more to the sidelines. With a short bow he returned to his folding chair and watched the scene play out before him in temperamental silence.

Despite the thick, humid air suffocating the room the girl was shivering from head to foot – whether if was from the freezing temperature of the water, shock, or anger he wasn't sure. It was only when she lifted her head and he saw her brown eyes glistening with rage behind a curtain of damp ebony tendrils that he understood. Exhaustion forgotten he leaned forward expectantly and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Who the Hell are you?" she demanded over the sound of her chattering teeth. She tossed her head to the side, sending wet strands of hair flying off her face, and sat up straighter in her chair, her rigid posture both defiant and foolish. She openly regarded Kagura with a look so full of contempt that it sent Kesuke's eyebrows soaring upwards. Just who the heck was this girl? She either had to be stupid or completely nuts to provoke Kagura that way! Didn't she know a yakuza lackey when she saw one?

His dark, beady eyes sliced quickly to Kagura's face and he leaned imperceptibly closer, intently curious on what her response would be. Her twin, blood red orbs regarded the defiant jut of the girl's jaw, the square set of her shoulders and the anger burning brightly within her eyes without the slightest bit of interest. She snorted derisively before letting out a loud, barking laugh.

"You really are clueless aren't you? Well no matter. It's not like _I_ want anything to do with you. I'm just here to survey the merchandise."

"Just what the hell's that supposed to mean?" the girl spat, either too reckless or naïve to realize that she was already treading on thin ice.

Kagura turned and brought the edge of her fan down viciously across the defiant chit's mouth. She used the stunned silence that followed to examine her in more detail. She looked so much like the other, but did they have the right one? The last time… she didn't even want to remember what it was like to feel the brunt of the Boss' rage. Bringing her hand to her chest she rubbed it absently, still convinced she could feel the pain every so often.

"You talk too much," she observed of the girl as she paced in front of her. Her fan tapped noisily against her palm. "Don't you know that prisoners are supposed to be quiet and do as they're told?"

"Yeah it's a bad habit of mine," Kagome shot back. Tossing her hair off her face again, she straightened in her chair. Her eyes followed the woman's every step. She could feel the blood trickling down her chin from the cut on her lip and she slowly sucked the abused appendage into her mouth. The salty taste of her own blood reassured her that she was still alive but reminded her just as clearly that this was no dream. These people, whoever they were, were real and she was slowly starting to realize that her chances of getting out of this unscathed were dim.

"I won't be here long," she asserted boldly. "You have no idea who you're messing with. I've got people looking for me already and when they find me you're going to pay."

The fan sliced open to hide Kagura's snicker. Kesuke could see it from where he sat and wondered what would bring out such a reaction in his normally emotionally devoid superior. So far, he was no closer to understanding anything about their captive or why the Boss wanted her and he found it immensely frustrating.

The girl seemed pretty hard headed despite her vulnerable position. And the conviction in her eyes – yes, she seemed pretty certain she was going to be rescued at any minute. He glanced over his shoulder at the retinue of guards stationed at the door, knowing there were at least half a dozen more posted outside. Well, if her people were coming he certainly hoped they brought some backup otherwise they wouldn't stand a chance getting through the door. The taunting lilt in Kagura's voice drew his attention back to the verbal duel.

"Do you mean your little cop boyfriend? We took him out about forty-five minutes ago. No one's coming to save you Princess so you better start behaving unless you want to go swimming with the fishies!"

"I don't believe you."

Her tone was confident but Kesuke saw the flicker of doubt behind her gaze. Was that why they'd taken her? He'd seen it done before; the Boss would rough up an agent or someone in his family if they got a little too close to the truth. It was his way of politely telling them to back off and most times it worked. But if that was the case, they wouldn't have killed her cop boyfriend already. Things weren't adding up. Careful to keep his features impassive he glanced up at Kagura for confirmation but she gave nothing away, as usual.

"I don't give a damn if you believe me or not. He's dead and you will be too if you don't start behaving."

Kagura touched her fan to her forehead and let out an exasperated sigh as she turned away from the prisoner. For a moment her blood red eyes landed on Kesuke and he immediately felt his skin begin to crawl. She scowled at him before stalking past him on her way to the door.

"Make sure you take good care of her. I know he'll want her in one piece."

Kesuke felt his body bow respectfully as she passed and he swallowed the bitter taste that settled in his mouth.

"We're not done talking! I want answers dammit! Get back here you coward!"

"And keep her quiet," she added as an afterthought, ignoring the girl's outburst. "You know how the Boss is when they get mouthy."

Kesuke bowed his head again and heard the ominous sound of the witch's fan snapping open. With a quietly uttered word the inconspicuous looking item came to life and blasted a powerful jet of wind directly at the captive girl sending her hurtling backward, chair and all, into the far wall. A solid thud reverberated sickeningly throughout the tin prison and then all was silent again.

With a look of satisfaction the wind witch snapped her fan shut. Without sparing Kesuke a second glance she stalked out of the store house, leaving him to deal with the mess. He glared in annoyance at the large metal doors as they creaked shut in her wake, knowing it meant yet another long sleepless night dedicated to the yakuza.

Standing up suddenly he kicked his chair over in a brief and uncharacteristic display of frustration. A guard at the door quirked an eyebrow at him in silent warning and made a show of resting his hand on the holster of his gun. With a grunt Kesuke retrieved his chair from the floor and righted it none too gently, shooting the guard a defiant glare as he did so. That done, he cast a disgruntled glance at the far wall and embarked on his next order of business - picking up the pieces.

xXx

Fighting off a cold shiver, Kouga shoved his hands farther into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders towards his ears. The heavy pounding of his feet against the sidewalk was drowned out by the white noise of the busy street. Across the street a horn blared loudly and a cab driver shouted profanity at the cyclist who'd cut him off. He cast dour glances at the bundled pedestrians that passed by him on either side and picked up his pace. He wasn't exactly in the best neighbourhood and the only thing he could concentrate on at the moment was getting the hell out of there. Unfortunately, he had business to take care of first - business he wasn't looking forward to either.

His feet instinctively turned the corner and took the stairs leading up to the first apartment building two at a time. Slipping through the heavily graffitied door at the top of the stairs, he let himself in and slipped up a second set of stairs. His foot idly kicked a beer can out of his way and he cast a disinterested stare at the blood spots decorating the grungy tiles.

He would never understand why he chose to live in such filth. It wasn't like he couldn't afford better. He made enough money with his salary to at least get out of the ghetto, but he stubbornly remained in this cess pit of an apartment. The only thing he could figure was that in a place like this there were no secrets. Everyone's faults were laid out in the open for all to see and perhaps that was what kept him here. Here he didn't have to pretend to be anything more than what he was and he didn't have to live up to anyone else's expectations.

With a heavy sigh, Kouga stopped outside apartment C17 and pounded his fist loudly against the paint-chipped door. "Takahashi! Open up!"

Silence greeted him on the other side followed by a muffled "Go away!"

With a snarl of frustration he pounded again and shouted louder this time. "I'm not going away till you let me in! You can't hide in there forever!"

A door opened at the far end of the hall and a woman stepped out dressed in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. She sunk her fingers into her bed tousled hair and used the other to pull a cigarette from her mouth. "Hey asshole! You mind keepin' it down? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

"Get back inside!" he barked at her. "This is official police business."

For a moment she looked like she was going to retort with some jab about cops but with another scratch of her head she decided against it. Putting her cigarette to her lips she narrowed her eyes at him warningly and scratched mindlessly at her arms. After a moment she retreated back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Kouga shook his head with a sneer of disapproval. _Damn junkies_… The place was crawling with them and they were always annoyingly over sensitive when they were coming down.

Well, since the stubborn mutt was playing hard to get, he just didn't see any other way around it. Taking a step backward he glanced warily down the hall again before launching his shoulder at the door. It burst open easily beneath his weight and he was soon stumbling into a paper strewn table in the middle of the apartment's make-shift dining area. Righting himself he kicked the broken door shut with a grunt and cast his eyes around the dishevelled apartment.

A general layer of filth covered every free space and a foul stench hung in the stale air. The rotting food he could see sitting on the counter likely had something to do with it, but there was more layers to the foul odour than just that. Stepping over a pile of newspapers thrown carelessly across the floor he stepped towards the inner recesses of the apartment in search of Inuyasha. The mutt was in there somewhere and he had a feeling that if he let his nose lead the way he'd find him soon enough.

Using the tip of his steel toed boot he tapped the door of the bathroom open and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight before him. "Well lookie what we have here…"

"Shaddup! Get outta mah house!" Came the slurred response from the dishevelled and filthy looking figure sitting sprawled out on the floor. With his back against the wall and a three-quarters empty bottle of Jack Daniels nestled between his legs he looked perfectly content to drink himself into oblivion. Judging by his general appearance and the smell of unwashed body that was exactly what he'd been doing for the past few days.

Kouga heaved a sigh of resignation and stepped inside the cramped bathroom. Yet again his instincts had proven accurate. He'd known something was up. Crouching next to Inuyasha, he took a moment to examine the worn features of his face and the glassy far away look in his eyes. This was not good… definitely not good.

The night prior he'd run into an old friend from the 29th division at the local strip club. A bunch of the boys had gone down to blow off some steam after a particularly difficult homicide scene. Whenever kids were thrown into the mix it was hard on everyone. After a few drinks the guy had casually mentioned Takahashi's situation – mainly, he hadn't bothered to call in or show up to work for a week. It was no secret he was walking a tight rope with Internal as it was and this was just the thing that would convince them to cut it out from under him.

The idiot had been put on probation the last time he'd decided to go on a week long drinking binge. It was a shame too, since the guy was a pretty decent detective when he laid off the sauce. When he first started he'd had one of the highest conviction rates of any cop in the city. Now… well that was another story altogether. Though not exactly a close friend, Kouga knew he couldn't in good conscience let the mutt throw his career away over something like this. The guy had saved his life once. He owed him at least this much.

The thing was, this time he just couldn't wrap his head around it. Everyone had their demons, and everyone knew Takahashi had struggled with his for years, but it didn't feel the same this time. Though he hated to admit it, Inuyasha had actually gotten better since hooking up with that reporter. He was making progress on his cases, seemed to have laid off the booze; things were looking up, which was exactly why it just didn't make sense that he was just throwing it all away. Unless…

"So she dumped your sorry ass did she?" Maybe the girl had opened her eyes and realized she needed a real man to take care of her? He tucked that thought away and made a mental note to look up her number later. Maybe he'd have better luck in round two?

"Fuck you. You don't know nothin'."

Kouga shrugged. Okay so he hadn't exactly been delicate about it, but he knew from experience that Inuyasha only understood blunt. On that note, he made a move to grab the bottle of JD from his lax grip, but the temperamental hanyou snarled at him and shied away. Satisfied that he wasn't going to make another grab for the bottle, Inuyasha took a loud sip before slamming it noisily back down against the tile floor.

Kouga sighed impatiently and thought seriously of leaving. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay in this cramped bathroom with its suffocating atmosphere and wretched stink. He moved to stand but as he did so his eyes caught sight of the tiny scar cutting across the mutt's chest. The white line of scar tissue was just barely visible through the opening of his shirt but it was enough to root him to his spot.

For better or worse he owed the mutt his life. He remembered all to well the long nights he'd spent next to his hospital bed, watching the shaky rise and fall of his chest. It wasn't that he had any particular affinity for the guy, he didn't then and he sure as heck didn't now, but when someone saves your life like that you can't just ignore them when they need help. If Inuyasha hadn't pushed him out of the way… well that scar was a very visible reminder of just how much he owed the slobbering drunk slouched in front of him. What were a few more minutes to help him get back on his feet?

"Well if she didn't come to her senses and kick your ass to the curb, what the hell happened? Has she seen you like this? You look like shit and you don't smell much better either."

"Go home asshole. I don't need your help."

Inuyasha took another long swig from his bottle and gasped loudly at the burning sensation of the alcohol sliding down his throat. Though the room was spinning, he tilted his head towards the wolf and regarded him with glassy eyes. Two tanned faces swirled in front of him so he took a chance and addressed the one that seemed most in focus.

"Why the hell're you here anyway? No one asked you to come. So unless you're gonna help me find her you can get the hell outta here. This ain't no fuckin' pity party."

Kouga's eyebrow knit together in confusion and his head cocked to the side. "Find who? Kagome?"

Maybe he'd been right, maybe there really was something more to this. He felt a knot of worry form in his stomach as he looked over the hollowed face of his comrade. For Inuyasha to fall this hard off the wagon it had to be bad. Had something happened to her? The thought of such a pretty woman being attacked and helpless at the mercy of some thug had his blood boiling. He'd kill the bastard with his bare hands!

"Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?" Inuyasha let out a loud groan of frustration and quickly drowned it with another swig of whiskey. His free hand slapped loudly against the floor between his thigh and the shower until it found what he was looking for. Snatching the polaroid up from the floor, he tossed it sloppily towards the wolf.

In the interim he took another swig and swallowed hard. No matter how much he drank it refused to go away. The tight feeling in his chest, the shortness of breath, the painful clenching around his heart… Why wouldn't it just go away? His eyes cut blearily to the wolf's lap and he watched him flip the picture over in his hands. It was probably just as well he couldn't see it from this angle. The image was already burned into his memory but even so, he wasn't sure if he could handle seeing it again.

Kouga blinked at the image staring back at him in utter silence, unwilling to trust what his eyes were showing him. It had to be a joke right? He glanced incredulously at Inuyasha, his bright eyes meeting the hanyou's unfocused gaze. There was a smug, drunken smile on his lips and he wasted no time ridding him of it. Grabbing him roughly by the shirt collar he punched him hard across the face.

"So you mean to tell me that someone out there has Kagome and instead of going to find her you went on a fucking drinking binge? Have you lost your fucking mind? She could be dead by now and you've done fuck all to help her. Shit! I knew I never should've let her get involved with you! What the hell were you thinking?"

With a disgruntled snarl, he threw the drunkard's limp form into the grimy bathtub and turned on the cold water. The shower hissed to life and along with the sound of water slapping against the bare ceramic came the surprised gasps of the inebriated hanyou prostrated beneath its spray.

Deciding it would be best to leave him in there for a few minutes to sober up, Kouga made a point to dump the rest of the JD down the toilet. After a moment of contemplation he flushed it and listened keenly to the shriek that came from behind the shower curtain as the water went from freezing cold to scalding hot and back again. Well, served the bastard right. If he'd done something about this days ago Kagome could already be back home safe and sound. He didn't even want to think about what she'd gone through these past few days while he was working and Inuyasha was drinking himself stupid.

His eyes fell to the picture now resting on the edge of the sink and stared at it for a long while. He slowly let out the breath he'd been holding and switched into detective mode. Though the terror in her beautiful big brown eyes made it difficult, he eventually managed to focus only on the clues and not the subject. From what he could tell there was nothing they could take from it. The background was dark, the hands holding her had no distinctive markings - in short, there was nothing they could use to identify where the picture was taken or who'd abducted her. Things were already looking bad. Not to mention the fact that they were well past the 24 hour window of opportunity. If they were ever going to find her, it was going to take some good, old fashioned leg work.

"Hey mutt face! You done getting rid of that stink yet?"

The tap squeaked noisily as it was turned off and a moment later a thoroughly drenched but sober looking hanyou stepped out, still clothed. His eyes screamed murder as he glared at the detective resting his hip casually against the sink and with a derisive snort he walked past him, slowly peeling off articles of drenched clothing as he went.

Kouga followed the sounds of wet material slapping noisily against the floor into the living room. He stalked out into the kitchen area while Inuyasha headed into his bedroom and took a seat at the folding table to wait. He debated making a cup of coffee, but after seeing the state of the kitchen and the mould floating on top of the previous brew he decided that good ole' fashioned take out was probably safer.

Inuyasha emerged from his bedroom a few minutes later looking thoroughly displeased as he pushed damp tendrils of silver hair back off his face and tied them into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. The newly showered and somewhat sober hanyou wordlessly retrieved his leather jacket from the back of the couch and shrugged into it. Shooting his partner an impatient glare he nodded towards the door.

"We goin' or what?"

Glad to see that his comrade had finally come to his senses, Kouga nodded in agreement and grinned triumphantly. _Mission accomplished!_ He noticed Inuyasha throw open the broken door and pause with one foot already in the hall.

"And Kouga?"

"Yeah what?" He responded dismissively as he tucked the only evidence they had into the breast pocket of his jacket. He felt his shoulders tense as he realized that the mutt must've noticed the busted door.

"Thanks."

By the time he looked up, Inuyasha had already disappeared from sight. For a moment everything was noticeably quiet and he simply stared at the door in disbelief. The bastard had actually thanked him. "Well…I guess there's a first for everything," he remarked in genuine surprise.

The walls didn't answer him, but just outside the door he heard the impatient shouts of a certain hanyou. With a smirk and shake of his head, he followed him out the door. The mutt was right. If they were going to find her they didn't have any more time to waste. He patted the pocket of his jacket to reassure himself that the picture was still there. Without it they didn't have a hope of finding her.

_Hang in there Kagome. I promise we'll bring you home._

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Hey guys! Sorry this chapter has taken so long to come out. I've been struggling with it since July (no joke!) but it's finally here. Please read and review. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And thank you to everyone who has given this story so much support in the past. You guys are great!

Until next time…

Langus


	13. In Dreams They Wait

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 13

- In Dreams They Wait -

"Mmm Kagome?"

His tone was suggestive and she smiled at the implication behind it. The gentle smack of his lips against her skin and the way his breath cascaded down her neck sent a shiver of goose bumps along her arms.

She tunnelled her fingers into his hair, that soft, silky pool of silver that could make any woman jealous. A pleasant sigh left her lips as he pressed his mouth, warm and wet, against that spot on her neck she liked so much. Tingles of pleasure shot immediately down her spine to curl her toes and make her brain feel muddled.

Eventually she realized he'd said something and responded with a half-attentive "Mmm hmmm?" He snickered against her skin.

Turning her head, she brushed her lips against his temple, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo on his hair. It was still slightly damp from the shower they'd shared earlier. Curled up naked beneath her sheets, their legs hopelessly tangled, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be at the moment.

Her hand brushed delicately across the firm muscles of his arm; the skin covering his biceps felt impossibly soft. Unable to resist the temptation, she bent her head and placed a gentle kiss against his shoulder before seeking out his mouth. He met her half-way, capturing her lips in a brief yet sensuous kiss. He lingered close before slipping away; she could hear him breathing in her scent. His claws combed easily through her hair, tucking a few wayward strands behind her ear.

She'd never allowed herself to be this exposed in front of a man. Here she sat, her hair hanging about her face in damp tendrils, naked, without a stick of makeup on, and yet she couldn't ever remember feeling more at ease. If she wanted to be perfectly honest about it she'd never felt like this before, with anyone. Propping her head up on her hand she rested her weight on her elbow and took a moment to study him.

The afternoon light streaming through her shutters in broken gold rays brought his amber eyes life. The colour within them seemed to move and shift about, like unassuming ripples across a glass lake. The way he looked at her now – no man had ever looked at her like that before. She was used to seeing hunger, lust, competition and jealousy, even from him, but not now. There was something warm in his gaze, soft even.

At least for the moment he wasn't the abrasive, rude, arrogant Detective she'd come to know. He'd become someone else entirely, someone she thought she wouldn't mind seeing more of. There was no hesitation in his movements when he leaned forward, quite unexpectedly, and pressed a kiss along the bridge of her nose. She blinked and wrinkled it, casting him a curious look.

"Has anyone ever told you you have freckles?" he inquired playfully.

She scoffed and covered her nose in disbelief, the touch of his lips still tingling against her skin. "I do _not_ have freckles!"

"You do…right there," he explained, gesturing to the spot he'd kissed. "I didn't notice them before, but they're definitely there."

She shot a glare his way and gently rubbed her fingers across the bridge of her nose as if she could simply wipe them off. He smirked at her movements and reached up, his fingers covering hers.

"Don't," he commanded gently and she obeyed, letting him steal her hand away. "I like them. They make you seem softer…less intimidating."

She laughed, falling back against the mattress, her head sinking into the pillow. "Am I really that intimidating?" she wondered half seriously.

He shrugged, seeming to contemplate the question. "You can be. I was pretty sure you hated my guts the first few times we met."

She shot him a shrewd smile. "Baka. That's because I did."

He chuckled quietly to himself. Stretching backwards, he combed his claws lazily through his tousled hair and glanced out the window. The sun was already setting and they hadn't emerged from the apartment all day. Not that that mattered of course, they'd been rather occupied.

Her eyes wandered over his naked chest, admiring the way the dying light made his skin look like it was crafted out of the finest bronze. When his eyes returned to her she caught herself and looked away sheepishly, swallowing down the lump that'd risen in her throat.

She'd dated a lot in her life and many of those men had been what you would call the good looking sort, but none of them affected her like he did. It was frightening, unnerving and utterly exhilarating, how he could capture her interest with a mere glance?

Drawn towards him like a magnet she shimmied closer, wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his warmth. His hand dropped to settle lightly, familiarly, against the curve of her waist, his thumb absently tracing small circles against her skin.

"But you know…," she confessed slyly, "I like you a bit better now."

"Oh really?" One of his eyebrows quirked up curiously and she found herself smiling at the expression.

"Yeah, really."

"Is that because you realized I'm an animal in the sack?" he joked, shifting his weight so he was resting on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. He growled lightly before burying his face in the crook of her neck to steal kisses against the sensitive skin hidden there.

"Hardly!" she chided, hoping to goad him.

She squirmed beneath him, desperately trying not to giggle at the ticklish sensation of his breath and lips mapping out her exposed skin. He moved against her and she felt the tell-tale stirrings of his manhood against her thigh. _Does he ever get tired?_ Her body was satiated, sore and exhausted beyond the point of exhaustion yet the gentle, insistent touch of his lips against her skin made her crave him like a drug addict craves a fix. It was going to be a long night.

"What was that? Take it back," he growled breathily in her ear, trapping her earlobe between his lips. He snagged her unsuspecting hands and held them prisoner above her head while taking the opportunity to nibble at her helpless appendage. Tiny shivers of pleasure shivered across her skin at his touch.

"I'm not taking it back!" She swore defiantly, gasping aloud when his tongue found that spot on her neck that had the ability to melt her into a pile of goo every time.

He teased her, made her whimper beneath him, then pulled back and shot her the cockiest of smirks. She scowled darkly up at him, unwilling to let him know she was completely and utterly his prisoner. Judging from the look in his eyes though, he already knew her dirty little secret. His smirk never faded as he dipped his head and caught her lips against his.

She rather enjoyed the feeling of his mouth, warm and hot, pressing against her own and the needy, playful taunts of his tongue. She gave herself up to it, moaning softly into his mouth and he rewarded her with one of his own, his hands tightening around her wrists. It was then that she felt it, a sudden panicked sinking in her gut – something wasn't right. Shooting pain burned down her right shoulder. She gasped aloud in shock, her body frozen and completely paralyzed in its wake. It hurt so bad but she couldn't breathe much less speak.

His lips continued to move needily against hers, insistent, demanding; his hold on her wrists tightened even more with the pull of his rising lust and yet she was helpless against the tide of pain that rocked her to her very core. It was then that an unexpected moment of clarity hit her. This wasn't right. None of it was right. This day, this afternoon spent with him had already happened and it hadn't turned out like this.

She remembered it clearly now. There'd been no pain in her arm, no smell of fish in the air. The sun disappeared suddenly; the room became dark, darker than the darkest of moonless nights. She turned her head away from the insistent press of his lips. He was suddenly gone and she was cold without him. Her body shivered, goose bumps rising along her flesh.

_Where the Hell am I?_

A light somewhere in the distance caught her eye. She watched it grow steadily brighter, from a tiny speck into an all encompassing glare that burned her eyes and made her want to cower away from its brilliance. Her limbs were frozen at her sides, paralyzed by some unseen force so she was unable to shield herself from its powerful pull. Helpless to do anything else, she stood there and waited to find out what would happen next.

xXx

_Why does it smell like fish in here? _was the first coherent thought to enter Kagome Higurashi's brain as she walked the tightrope of consciousness. Her nose wrinkled at the obtrusive stench and she sucked in a shallow breath.

_Everything hurts_, was her next thought before she abruptly stopped breathing. A wave of nauseating pain slammed through her. When it subsided she could feel herself trembling and dreaded the thought of ever having to feel it again. Her breath escaped slowly from her lips and with it slipped out a muffled moan. Wincing at the constant throbbing sensation in her shoulder she stilled herself to take another breath.

_I remember…_

She stirred in her seat. Wrong move. White hot daggers seared down her right arm and tore across her chest. Her entire body felt raw. Even the slightest touch – the brush of hair against her cheek, the rough texture of her shirt against her skin – was excruciating. It was then that she felt the persistent throb in her skull. It matched the ache in her right cheek perfectly.

_I remember what pain like this feels like…_

In a dizzying rush the long forgotten memories flooded the hazy fog of her mind until the face that'd once plagued her darkest nightmares emerged. She cringed at the sight of it and struggled against her bindings.

He smiled at her, that sick, self-satisfied smile he always wore after the fact and she felt the fear return with it. It was the kind of paralyzing fear that left her a whimpering, useless ball on the floor. She'd always been able to withstand the physical pain. Even now she knew that this was nothing compared to what he'd done to her, but she still couldn't escape the fear. It was the fear that haunted her and gave her nightmares. Even without him it would always linger, always follow her no matter where she went.

_And to think, all this time I tried to forget. _

She heard him whisper her name and could swear, in her half-conscious delusion, that she felt his hot breath swath across the back of her neck. It made her nauseous, made her tremble violently in her seat. Her mouth went dry and her tongue darted out to wet her parched lips. The rapidly increasing thrum of the blood rushing through her veins filled her ears. Her chest grew tight and her lungs constricted until she felt like she was suffocating.

Everything was rushing back, just like before, except this time she couldn't stop it. Her mind screamed, her arms strained against the ties that bound them and then it all stopped. A rough hand grabbed her chin and jerked her head upright. Her mind was wrenched awake and the nightmare slowly faded. Yet even as the last vestiges of his face faded into black she could hear his voice loud and clear, as though his mouth was pressed to the shell of her ear.

_You can't forget me Kagome. I'll always be here, watching you, waiting for just the right moment to-_

Her eyes fluttered open and stared blearily at the wide, tanned face of a man she didn't recognize. Any normal person would've been shocked to see him standing there staring inquisitively down at her, but Kagome could feel nothing but relief. It washed over her in such a sudden wave that she actually relaxed at his touch. She had no idea who this man was but for now it didn't matter. He wasn't _him_ and that made all the difference in the world.

Recovered from her brief traumatic episode, she licked her lips and tried to speak. "Who are you?" she asked, wincing at the way her voice cracked from disuse.

He didn't acknowledge that she'd spoken in any way. His face remained impassive as he studied her in silence. _He has kind eyes_, she thought as he held her gaze with those warm, tawny orbs. Something told her she should be afraid of him, that whatever situation she was in it wasn't a good one, but for the moment she couldn't see anything but his eyes and something in them told her everything would be okay.

After a moment he let her go and stalked away. She watched him settle into a small folding chair, cross his arms and gaze distantly at the far wall.

"Where are we? What am I doing here?"

Her voice, though soft, seemed to echo in the overlarge room. With nothing but silence answering her, she took a moment to look around. The smell of fish was enough to tell her they were close to the docks, most likely in one of the storage houses lining the pier. Judging by the algae coated floor and rusting tin roof that was exactly where they were. The question was why?

"Tell me why I'm here." Kagome narrowed her eyes at her mute companion when he continued to ignore her.

_Well this is just fantastic Higurashi. You've really got yourself in deep this time. You're kami knows where, in a room that stinks of fish, tied to a chair next to Mr. Personality over there! Better think fast to get yourself out of this one._

It took a moment for the realization to travel through her mildly concussed brain, but when it finally emerged she glanced down at the thick ropes wound around her body in shock.

_Wait…I'm tied to a chair? I'm…Shit! I'm tied to a fucking chair! _

Jaw set, she twisted at the ropes binding her wrists together while her feet simultaneously attempted to wriggle loose from the binds around her ankles. It took just one wrong movement, one poorly planned jerk of her wrist before blinding pain paralyzed her with another nauseating wave. Groaning, she bowed her head until it nearly touched her knees and cursed.

"Damn…"

"You shouldn't move. Your shoulder is dislocated."

The sound of a voice inside her head besides her own made her pause. Realizing that it'd come from the mute man sitting just as calmly as you please in front of her, she lifted her head and glared at him. She was slowly starting to remember him now. Something about a bucket of ice cold water came to mind. Taking in his slouched posture and the casual way his feet crossed at the ankles, she felt her anger begin to stir to life.

"No kidding…thanks but I kind of figured that part out already. Any other tidbits you wanna share while your tongue's still working in your head?"

He scoffed at her bitter retort and languidly pushed himself to his feet. Stepping over to a mini fridge a few steps away, he opened the door and pulled a beer from the door without bothering to peruse its other contents. He held her gaze as he twisted the top off and flung it to some distant corner of the fish-infested dive and took a sip. He swallowed slowly, his eyes cautiously surveying her. Reaching forward, the bottle still in his hand, he tipped it towards her.

"Your left arm's broken…a few ribs too probably. It's what you get for not keeping your mouth shut when you're told to."

"Oh…so what you're some kind of hot shot? Get your jollies out of beating up women when they're tied to chairs? Too much of a coward to take me on without the restraints? You make me sick!"

She glared at him, hate spewing from eyes that promised vengeance if she ever tasted freedom again. He took another swig of beer, his eyebrows lifting at her.

"Think whatever you like Princess."

He strode casually away from the girl towards the dirt encrusted windows to stretch his legs. He couldn't see out for the quarter-inch thick layer of brown filth coating them but it felt nice to feel the light on his face. Casting a disgruntled look over his shoulder he debated gagging her.

"Ya know, I liked you a whole lot better when you were sleeping." He couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth.

_Liar!_ his mind screamed at him. He sipped at his brew thoughtfully and watched the girl struggle, her face twisted into a determined scowl. He'd practically been bored to tears waiting around for her to wake up.

A part of him was relieved to see her conscious for an entirely different reason. When he'd found her buried beneath the rubble after Kagura's fantastic display she'd been so limp he'd thought for sure she was dead. Just like the stubborn little spitfire that she was though, she'd kept right on breathing. He had to admit, a part of him was impressed with her resilience but he wasn't sure if he could handle listening to her bitch at him like a shrieking harpy for the next several hours, or days, or however long it took the Boss to arrive.

"Ooooo…So what're you gonna do? Bludgeon me until I'm unconscious again? Real manly there big guy!"

Kesuke sighed wearily and collapsed into the folding chair. Planting his feet firmly on the floor he rested his elbows across his thighs and stared in contemplation at the floor.

"I could always gag you if that's what you want," he suggested seriously. He glanced up from beneath heavy eyelids and noticed with a fleeting sense of satisfaction that she abruptly shut her mouth. _Smart girl_.

Never much of a talker and lacking anything better to do, he studied her quietly from where he sat. She was much better looking now that she was awake, minus the puffy bruise purpling her cheek of course. There was a certain life in her eyes that drew him to her and a confidence in the way she sat, despite being bound, that he found oddly attractive. He hadn't a clue who this girl was but a part of him was dying to find out.

After a few minutes she shifted uncomfortably under this scrutinizing gaze and huffed a loud sigh. "So what…you plan to just there and stare at me all day?" she demanded haughtily. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time? Like maybe a family you should be going home to?"

Kesuke frowned at her words. She was right. He did have a family he needed to tend to. He would've rather been curled up next to his wife sharing their warm bed or walking his kids to school. He'd rather be eating her special rice balls while watching a cricket match on TV. Hell, he'd rather be doing just about anything except what he was doing which was sitting in a too hot tin prison that stunk of rotting fish guarding a mouthy bitch reporter.

"Look you wanna be gagged?" he demanded angrily, his frustration at the entire situation boiling over. "I don't wanna be here any more than you do so why don't you start playing nice and stop bitching my ear off?"

Kagome chewed her bottom lip and turned away in a huff. _Asshole…who does he think he is anyway? Wish he'd tell me what I'm doing here though._

Her eyes cast upwards at the dank ceiling and did another sweep of the room. It was more than nerve wracking that she hadn't a clue who'd done this to her or why. Her mind had been reeling ever since she woke up, turning over different possibilities, but she'd come up empty handed.

Her eyes lingered hopefully on the door. She didn't want to admit to herself who she hoped would walk through it. The last time she'd seen him he'd been arrogant, rude and a complete asshole. She'd ended their date by giving him a face full of jasmine tea and, no surprise, she hadn't heard from him since.

Though her heart wanted to hope for the impossible, the logical side of her brain wasn't so foolish. What were the chances that he'd even come for her, much less find her? Maybe he didn't even know she was gone. Maybe he didn't even care. A sudden worrisome thought put her stomach in knots. _What if it really was all about the sex to him? _At this point she'd rather die ignorant. She was better off operating under the misapprehension that it was something more to him too than knowing the ugly truth.

"So…," she began shakily, attempting to make conversation out of a desperate need for something else to occupy her thoughts. "How long have I been here anyway?"

The man stretched a pair of thick arms lazily above his head and glanced up at his watch. "Three days. Does it matter?"

Kagome lowered her gaze and stared unseeingly at a small scabbed over gash on her right knee. "No…I suppose not."

_Three days? _The words sunk in her stomach like a sack of bricks. She felt sick with the weight of them and they sent her head spinning. Three days…three days and nothing. Not a single sign of Inuyasha or anyone else who might be so inclined as to rescue her.

_Maybe he really isn't coming. Maybe… Shit Higurashi, what the Hell are you gonna do now?_

The man's unexpected movement drew her attention back to him. He'd re-settled himself in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes fixated on the slowly darkening windows along the far wall.

"Any chance you wanna let me go?" she offered hopefully. It was a shot in the dark, completely hopeless, but at present she was out of other options. The man didn't move an inch except to lift his beer bottle to his lips and suck back another sip. He didn't even bother to acknowledge she'd said a word. She narrowed her eyes contemptuously at his meaty profile and felt a bitter taste settle in the back of her mouth.

_I'll take that as a 'No'... _

xXx

The scent of freshly roasted coffee beans hung heavy in the air of the tiny corner coffee shop. The entire place was barely larger than the counter he stood at now, with just enough space for someone to walk behind him. It was essentially nothing more than a hole in the wall, but the coffee was fresh and their prices were cheap. It also happened to be conveniently located down the street from the precinct.

Kouga kept a wary eye on Inuyasha while he fixed the coffees in front of him. The mutt was standing near the window with his back to him, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes glued to the tail lights stopped dead all along the street. With a subtle shake of his head Kouga snapped the two sugar packets in his hand before ripping their tops open and dumping them into his cup. After a quick stir he reached for another for Inuyasha but changed his mind. A small part of him did it because he needed to punish the mutt in some small way for his stupidity. The logical side of his mind reasoned that black coffee was a better hangover cure.

He stalked over to where Inuyasha was standing - he might as well have been a statue since he hadn't moved an inch - and handed him his coffee. He brought it to his lips and took a sip without the slightest hint of acknowledgment. The moment the bitter, unsweetened brew touched his tongue he grimaced and shot him a scathing look.

Kouga cocked an eyebrow defiantly, wordlessly daring him to utter a single word of complaint about the free coffee. The moment the mutt opened his mouth he would remind him exactly _why_ it was that they were both in this unenviable position and how little right he had to be critical of anything. Apparently aware of his precarious position, Inuyasha shut his mouth and begrudgingly sucked down another sip.

The wolf's mouth twisted upwards into a wry smirk and he took a sip from his own cup. _So, an old dog can be trained after all._ For now, it was time to get down to business. They'd wasted enough time already. Correction - Inuyasha had wasted enough time already.

The incriminating photo, the one that would undoubtedly haunt his dreams for years to come, felt like it was burning a hole in his shirt pocket. All he had to do was open his jacket and she would be there, staring up at him imploringly with tears glistening on her ivory cheeks. How the mutt could've seen that picture and not immediately leaped out his front door was beyond comprehension. The logic, or illogic rather, that had led him to drink himself into oblivion was something he'd never understand. He just hoped for the mutt's sake they weren't too late. He'd seen what Kikyo's death did to him and he was ready to bet his pension that if this broad died too Inuyasha would go right along with her.

The cold air whipped against their faces as they stepped out of the shop and onto the street. At times having a squad car at your disposal had its advantages. The fact that they'd parked it directly out front made the winter breeze a heck of a lot more endurable.

Avoiding a rather large mound of dirty brown slush at the edge of the sidewalk, Kouga stepped around the car, unlocked his door and slipped inside. A moment later Inuyasha joined him and for a while they sat in silence, without even bothering to turn the car on. The only sound that passed between them in the cramped space was the self-conscious sips of steadily cooling coffee from paper cups.

When the silence got to be too much Kouga set his coffee down in the cup holder and jammed his keys into the ignition. The engine faltered before turning over and revving to life. A cold air burst of air gushed through the vents and he cranked the dashboard dial to HOT.

"So I guess the first step is to file a 'missing persons, report" he began, a little unsure about how the mutt wanted to proceed with things. Was he even in any kind of condition to be working?

"We can do that from my precinct to get the ball rolling. We need some manpower behind this if we're-"

He was interrupted rather abruptly by a curt "No!" from the man sitting next to him. With his eyebrows raised in surprised he turned to him, not bothering to hide the shock that registered on his features.

"No? What do you mean "No"? If you give that much of a damn we'll file it at your place. Like I give a shit who gets stuck with the paperwork!"

Inuyasha made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat and turned his fiery gaze out the window. Hoards of Christmas shoppers passed their car toting heavy, brightly coloured bags at their sides. All the stores along the strip were lit up with their doors propped wide open to entice shoppers into their warm confines. The commercialism over the holidays was astounding – a complete and utter joke.

"There ain't gonna be a missing persons report. This one's gotta be off the record. I can't take any chances this time," he answered gruffly, his expression dark.

Kouga nodded to himself, understanding washing over his features. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the mutt blamed himself for Kagome being in trouble. Whoever had taken her obviously did it to get to him. Why else would they have targeted her? It seemed more than just coincidence that the last two women to get close to him wound up in a world of trouble.

Suddenly feeling a pang of empathy for the dishevelled man at his side, he softened his tone. "Hey Mutt, why don't you try to get some sleep?"

Inuyasha shook his head and took another sip from the cold coffee nestled between his hands. "I'm fine," he retorted stubbornly.

"Yer not fine. I can tell just by lookin' at ya. At least take a nap. I'll wake you up in twenty, how's that? I need you on your best game."

"Look, I said I was fine! Besides, sleep won't help. I haven't slept since-" _she left._ His throat closed up refusing to utter those last telling words. It didn't matter though. From the look on the wolf's face he understood the implication just fine.

Kouga cast an anxious eye at his partner. From what he'd been able to discern from his conversationally challenged friend, it'd been nearly a week since he'd last seen the girl. It was certainly possible he hadn't slept since then judging by the look of him. What kind of number had this broad done on him anyway? For him to be this torn up about it he had to be deep in it.

Before he could open his mouth to offer any kind of conciliatory words, even a 'don't worry we'll find her' despite them both knowing that the odds were slim, the hanyou uncharacteristically spoke up.

"Every time I close my eyes I see her." The sombre timber of his voice expressed more than his words just how much her disappearance affected him.

"We ain't talkin' about Kagome anymore are we?" he offered, having the distinct impression that the mutt's guilt had more to do with the fact that he'd already been down this road once before. They were both keenly aware of the fact that the first time hadn't turned out so pretty, for him or the girl. Inuyasha turned his gaze out the darkened squad car window, remaining pensive and frustratingly silent.

"So then, where to?"

Kouga watched Inuyasha's mouth harden into a thin line and took note of the way the muscles in his jaw were working overtime inside his cheek. He understand exactly how he felt. Nothing was more frustrating than working a missing person's case, especially when the statistics were never in your favour. Though he may be a drunk, the mutt wasn't an idiot. He had to realize by now that the head start he'd given Kagome's abductors meant that their chances of finding her alive were barely worth acknowledging.

After a minute of silence, Inuyasha sighed heavily and re-crossed his feet at the ankles. When he spoke, exhaustion underwrote his every word.

"Her apartment. We'll start there."

Kouga wanted to shoot him a sympathetic look but kept his eyes glued on the road ahead. The mutt wouldn't appreciate his pity, nor would he want it. There were no delusions for either of them about the circumstances under which they were speaking civilly to one another, much less working side-by-side. Once they found Kagome things would go right back to the way they'd always been. That was the way it should be, the way it was going to be. No sense getting all sentimental about it.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I am SOOO excited to finally post this chapter! I know it's been a long time coming and I've been working on it forever.

My muses have been working overtime this week on all my stories…must be because they know I have school work to do. I'd really appreciate it if you guys left a review to let me know what you think of this Kesuke guy so far? Like him? Hate him? I'm just curious.

Until next time…

Langus


	14. Money, Sex, Lies

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 14

- Money, Sex, Lies -

A blue haze of cigarette smoke rolled about the room like an early morning mist. The scent of alcohol and sex were strong in the air, trademarks of the establishment. On stage a scantly clad woman gyrated to the beat of some pornographic rhythm to the appreciative leers and whistles from the crowd in front of her. She hooked her leg around the pole at the center of the stage and swung her body around it, a show for all to see. In a place like this there were no secrets and a man could be as invisible and nameless as he chose to be.

The sweaty faced patrons hogging up the front row, their eyes eagerly gawking upwards at the naked form swaying and thrusting just out of reach, were all mid-range business men. They had young wives and elementary school aged children at home. They lived in mid-sized detached houses that smelled of cooked beef and vegetables after a long day at the office. They were the white collar sort, the kind that worked their entire lives to prove something to the world and were never truly satisfied with what they ended up with.

These were the kind of men who sat front row in these types of establishments. Their greedy, beady eyes remained glued to the breasts and ass of every woman in the place, their pockets lined with low denomination bills that they threw on stage or tucked into an undergarment with shaky hands. They had every measure of happiness waiting at home for them and yet they chose this place of all places to spend their Thursday nights. These mid-range men who lived a life of meeting expectations were always the most eager to lose themselves in the spectacle. Their movements were predictable, their money dependable; they weren't the dangerous type.

The men who sat at the back, half-hidden within the shadows, their faces cast in an eerie glow by the red mood lighting were an entirely different story. No one ever saw them enter the club but they were always there, a constant fixture in the back corner. Their presence was as expected and dependable as the money from the middle managers and the strippers on stage. It was an unspoken rule that everyone understood from the moment they walked through the rich dark velvet curtain at the entrance - this was their domain. The moment you stepped inside you were in their world and they made the rules.

Most times it wasn't an issue. Every now and then a rowdy customer would be discreetly escorted outside and never seen again. For those who behaved themselves it wasn't a problem, but the feeling of their eyes settling on the back of your head could be unnerving nonetheless. A few of the waitresses could always be seen hanging near their table, flitting about like hummingbirds seeking nectar from a generous flower. The strippers, if they were smart, played to them too, coyly sitting at their table, whispering flirtations into their ears while pouring drinks with hands decorated by red acrylic nails.

The wisps of cigar smoke that curled up from their table hung about them like a wreath and the stench of fresh Cubans in the air was a daily fixture. They never said much. The table was usually quiet. The men dressed in dark suits crowded around it spoke in hushed tones and whispers about important things, illegal things, but no one paid them any mind. A stack of cards was usually passed around the table or laid off to one side forgotten. Sometimes they played Poker to pass the time.

This is how it was every day, every night at _Seduction_. The same table, the same men, the same patrons staring greedily up at the same dancers from the front row. Tonight was different though. Tonight a stranger sat at the table in the back corner, someone the regulars didn't recognize. He looked nervous; sweat beaded along his brow until he swiped it away with a quick jerky motion, using the back of his sleeve as a rag. He glanced at his watch, then at the door. His face frowned and he took a long sip from the glass of Scotch the waitress discreetly placed in front of him.

Glass drained he set it back down on the table, the ice cubes chinking against the crystal. The waitress bent down offering him an ample view of her pressed up cleavage and asked if he'd like another. He ignored her blatant attempt to use her body to extort more tips and nodded 'yes'. She obliged with a simple nod of her head and flitted away to the bar, tray in hand.

The stranger didn't make eye contact with any of the others at the table and they appeared to pay him no mind. They continued with their game of cards, biting their cigars, sipping their gin and sake. As if operating with one mind they looked up simultaneously at the entrance. Their hands stilled, their mouths hung slightly ajar. The stranger looked over as well and swallowed, his nervousness seeming to increase tenfold.

A man stood there; quiet, unassuming, well dressed. His dark, calculating eyes drifted appreciatively around the club before settling on the table in the far back corner. The head hostess scurried up to him, offering with a humble bow to take his jacket. He obliged, casting it off like an after thought. She accepted it reverently and handed it off to another hostess to hang up while she walked dutifully next to him towards the back table. His pace was slow yet purposeful, as if time stood still just for him.

With a movement of his hand the hostess abruptly stopped speaking, bowed and turned back towards the bar, leaving him to his own devices. He approached the table slowly, his black leather shoes silent atop the gaudy red carpeted floor. By this time the others had stood from their seats and respectfully offered him a seat at the head. He waved their request away, his expression bored and unimpressed. They all appeared nervous now, but none more so than the stranger.

He stood shakily from his chair, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He bowed quick and deep, his head remaining low long after his body had risen. He stared humbly at the floor, unwilling or unable to look the newcomer in the eye. Only those at the table heard what happened next. The dirty beats of the pornographic music pumped loudly from the speakers on stage. The crowd around the pole was too enthralled to take any notice of the goings on at the back of the club. Even those men who sat at tables of their own were being entertained by girls instructed to keep their minds occupied.

"I have come to beg forgiveness," the stranger blurted out without pretence.

The newcomer in his stunning black suit eyed him carefully, his expression giving away nothing. The stranger fumbled with his words, everything about him showing his express discomfort with the entire situation.

The waitress who'd returned with the Scotch refill caught sight of the scene at the table and abruptly turned around. With a flirtatious smile she handed the drink to one of the ragged middle aged drunks sitting along the bar and mouthed "This one's on me." His jacket hung across the adjacent stool, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his tie hung loosened about his neck. He leered at her suggestively and groped her behind when she walked by to tend to another customer. They were all the same – so fucking predictable.

Back at the table, that same one in the back corner, a large, burly man dressed in a black suit with a green tie was quietly dragging the lifeless body of the stranger out the back door of the club. No one took notice of the fact that there was a hole the size of a bullet in his forehead, or the tiny stream of blood dripping down his face. They were too preoccupied with their X-rated fantasies to notice that someone had just died within their midst.

The newcomer quietly, unassumingly, unscrewed the silencer from the end of his gun and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. The gun he returned to

some hidden place behind his back. The group collectively stared at him, afraid, intimidated and awed. It was obvious they respected him but whether it was a respect born out of true admiration or fear was impossible to tell. A large man standing next to the head of the table, still holding the stack of cards ready to be dealt in his hand, gestured once more to the seat next to him.

The newcomer shook his head and looked amiably around the club. His eyes settled on the stage for a brief moment, appreciating the naked beauty of the dancer. A moment later he abruptly abandoned the table and headed for the door. The hostess met him halfway, offering his coat and humble requests to stay for a drink. He ignored her. The coat he slipped over his shoulders as his eyes glanced once more at the girl on stage. He motioned to her with a flick of his wrist, the hostesses eyes followed.

His mouth barely moved to utter his command but whatever it was she nodded readily and bowed before departing towards the stage. A moment later the dancer was standing by his side, the hostess looking thrilled. She beamed up at him from her five foot nothing stature with yellow lipstick stained teeth and a face aged by years of wearing too much make up. His eyes looked the dancer up and down in appraisal, noting the high perkiness of her breasts, the taut lines of her stomach, the smooth, round curve of her ass. Something about her must have pleased him because he nodded once, draped his jacket over her shoulders and stepped out the door with the girl in tow.

The hostess waved goodbye, genially imploring him return soon to their fine establishment. The moment he left her smile faded and she shuffled towards the bar, obviously troubled. Anyone who'd been to the club enough times would realize that once the dancers left with him they never came back. The hostess had every reason to be troubled. She'd just lost one of her most popular girls and had no one to replace her. She scowled at a man lingering next to the bar when he cast a lewd comment her way and disappeared through a crimson velvet curtain into a back room.

At the table in the back corner an uncomfortable silence had descended upon the group. They exchanged apprehensive glances and sipped their drinks slowly. The man at the head shuffled the cards loudly before dealing them out, his expression grim.

"Did you know?"

The man abruptly stopped dealing and shook his head in resignation. His movements picked up again until the cards were distributed. Collecting his own pile he tapped them together and spread them in front of his eyes. Removing the cigar from his mouth he shook his head again.

"I never know what the Boss is gonna do anymore. That man does what he wants. I just stay out of his way."

Someone whistled, a low, appreciative sound. They nodded in collective agreement. The Boss they called him. He was the scariest son of a bitch in Tokyo. There was no emotion in his eyes, no hesitation in his movements. He hadn't thought twice about killing that lackey for screwing up. Life, death, money, power, they were just words to him because he lived that existence every day. Nothing could touch him, no one dared to cross him.

The group continued on with their game of cards and attempted to forget the look on the lackey's face when he realized his number was up. The grim expression on all of their faces was testament enough that it wasn't working. Though not one of them voiced the thought aloud, they were all thankful the Boss didn't show himself often. On those rare occasions when he did, his stay was always mercifully short.

xXx

The squad car rolled to a stop and parked alongside the curb in front of Kagome Higurashi's apartment. Kouga turned the engine off slowly and a dead silence settled over the car. Curious, he leaned across the front seat and glanced up at the complex through the passenger window. He made an odd sounding "huh" in the back of his throat before stuffing the keys in his jacket pocket and pulling open the driver's door.

"You comin' or not?" he demanded offhandedly.

Inuyasha cast him a flat glare and exited the car, turning his collar up against the biting wind. His eyes stared down the street at the lights in the distance that signalled which late-night shops were still open. The coffee shop she'd taken him to was just out of sight, but it wouldn't be open at this time anyhow.

_I should've gone after her that day. _

The harsh realization that he could've prevented this if he hadn't let his pride get in the way burned him more than the blistering wind that brought the promise of a long, frigid winter on its back. He looked dejectedly at the steps leading up to the front door and hesitated. Could he go back there? The place would be full of her. Her scent, her things, the memories would be inescapable once he walked through her door…

Kouga jogged up the stairs, taking them two and a time, and Inuyasha found himself following reluctantly despite his reservations. If he was going to have any hope of finding her, any hope at all, he had to get over the memories of Kikyo that continued to haunt him. He hadn't been able to do anything for her, but Kagome was still alive as far as he knew. Saving her was the only way he could redeem himself, to both of them. He just had to suck it up and go in there. He could deal with the pain later.

Sensing his partner's hesitancy, Kouga cast an encouraging glance over his shoulder. "Don't worry. It'll be like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it quick and deal with the pain so we can get down to business."

Inuyasha's eyes narrowed at him. _Yeah a band-aid the size of fucking Texas wrapped around the hairiest leg possible. _

The last thing he needed was a pep talk from that bastard. His pride still felt bruised over the fact that it'd been Kouga of all people who'd pulled him back from the edge and Kouga who'd kick started their investigation. Without him he'd still be drinking away his sorrows in his bathroom, covered in his own filth and vomit, or dead. He owed the smug asshole a really big thank you when all was said and done with but for him to do anything more than tolerate him at the moment was asking too much.

Both detectives succumbed to a body-shaking shiver the moment they stepped inside the warm confines of the stairwell. From the heating grate set into the far wall came a loud clicking sound. Buckets of humid, too-warm air pumped out of it and into the tiny entry way. Kouga stamped his shoes against the weather strip rug, tossing off the snow and slush stubbornly clinging to them. Inuyasha ignored the snow on his and gazed up the stairwell in contemplative silence.

"Which floor?"

"Three," he replied without hesitation.

Kouga shot him an uneasy look but stuffed his hands into his pockets and started up the flight of stairs to their right. His footfalls echoed dull and pronounced throughout the stairwell, each successive thump marking the fact that they were one step closer to finding her. He was about halfway up the first flight of stairs before the sounds of Inuyasha's shoes could be heard below, his steps slow and deliberate. He kept his head down and moved like a disobedient child being sent to the principal's office for punishment.

By the time he reached the third floor Kouga was already pacing restlessly up and down the hall.

"So which apartment is it?" he demanded as soon as the stairwell door clicked shut behind him.

Inuyasha shoved his hand into his pocket and withdrew his key ring, the metal keys jingling loudly in the otherwise muted hallway. Stopping in front of apartment 305 he separated one key from the others and slipped it into the lock. If Kouga was surprised he had a key to her apartment it didn't show on his face. His expression remained carefully impassive as he waited.

The lock turned easily and Inuyasha pushed the door open with a soft grunt and the edge of his shoulder. Holding his breath he took a step inside and flicked on the light to the main entry way. The warm glow dimly lit the short hallway leading to the kitchen, the peach toned walls seeming to give off a warmth of their own.

Inuyasha took a few steps forward, his footfall echoing loudly on the tile floor, resonating with the knowledge that the apartment laid empty. He felt Kouga following close behind but paid him no mind as he made his way towards the kitchen. The front door slammed shut, the unexpected noise making his shoulders jump and his ears twitch. He cast a glare over his shoulder at Kouga who shrugged apologetically.

Stopping next to the countertop he slid his hand along the smooth granite surface. With a snap yellow artificial light invaded the kitchen making it appear cold and unwelcoming. It was funny how with her gone the place lacked life of any kind. It felt dead and lonely, its usual vibrancy completely gone.

"I'll start with the living room," Kouga muttered and stalked past, flicking on lights as he went.

Inuyasha faltered next to the countertop and gripped it for support as her scent and the memories that came with it assaulted his senses. His amber eyes stared hard at the small table built for two across from him. There, on that very chair, she'd straddled him and he'd exposed his true self to her. He'd let her in before he even realized how deep in it he was. His ears twitched as they remembered the way her fingertips had felt, and the intoxicating teases of her tongue…

He shook his head and backed away from the counter, determined to focus on the task at hand. Kagome was depending on him. He had time to reminisce later. Catching sight of the mail heaped carelessly next to the sink, he flicked through it but found nothing of interest. It seemed he wasn't the only one to experience the unwanted friendship of creditors. After casting a quick glance around the rest of the kitchen he decided that there was nothing of importance there that could help him and moved on to the bedroom.

While passing by the bathroom he caught sight of Kouga seemingly preoccupied with rifling through Kagome's medicine cabinet. He smirked inwardly as he pictured how she'd react at finding the wolf so enthralled by her collection of feminine products. He'd been on the receiving end of her fury more than he liked to admit. It wasn't a pleasant storm to weather that was for damn sure!

Inuyasha stopped at the door of her bedroom and rested his shoulder against the jam with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Her scent was strongest here. It was apparent, even to someone who didn't know her as he did, that she spent most of her time in this room. If she wasn't sleeping she was reading, sitting cross legged atop her bed working on her next piece, fooling around with him. His heart jerked painfully in his chest and he stepped across the threshold into her space.

The city lights cast an eerie glow across the floor and illuminated the suitcase lying open on the bed. Rich looking dark sweaters and a pair of jeans overflowed from its interior and escaped down the sides to mingle with the assorted piles of clothes strewn across her bedspread.

_She was planning to go without me..._he realized with a sudden twinge of disappointment.

His eyes surveyed the suitcase's contents with an expert attention to detail. He reached down and trailed his fingers across the lone unfolded sweater draped lazily atop the rest. It was soft to the touch and he recognized it instantly – it was that deep purple one she liked to wear so much. She'd worn it out on a couple of their "dates". He'd always catch her running her hands over her arms, discreetly caressing its softness. She said she liked the way it felt against her skin, he had to agree.

Dropping the shirt, he took another turn and stepped towards her desk. He shuffled quickly through the scattered papers there, his eyebrow cocking at a few gossip magazines discreetly hidden beneath several scholarly journals. After a few minutes of fruitless rummaging he realized with a sinking sense of disappointment that there was nothing of value within the room; nothing that could lead him to her or even point him in the right direction.

_How does someone just disappear without anyone noticing?_ he wondered tersely, frustrated by the fact that they'd gotten nowhere.

_You didn't notice_, his mind reminded him in a taunting jeer. A deep frown creased his forehead. The voice was right of course. He hadn't noticed until the bastard had mailed him that picture. If he'd never opened that envelope would he still be waiting for her to come back, too bolstered by his pride and ego to even pick up the phone?

Kouga stepped silently into the room and cast a quick glance at the suitcase lying forgotten atop the bed.

"Was she going on a trip?" he asked with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

Inuyasha shrugged. "We were supposed to go to Hokkaido for the weekend."

"Hokkaido huh?" He clicked his tongue against his teeth appreciatively. "I hear that place is pretty romantic this time of year with all the hot springs and stuff."

Inuyasha ignored the blatant attempt to goad him and maintained a temperamental silence. Looking dejected Kouga scratched aimlessly at the back of his head and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Find anything that'll help us out?"

Silence.

Un-phased he strolled back into the hall and called back over his shoulder, "Yeah I didn't find nothin' either. Got any ideas on where we should look next?"

Alone, Inuyasha closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Her scent filled his lungs, intoxicated his brain and wrapped its warmth around him like a tender caress. He let it out slowly, savouring the faint taste of her in his mouth. The finality of her absence hit him hard when he opened his eyes and saw only shadows and forgotten items lingering around him.

_Forgotten clothes, forgotten work, a forgotten life..._

Her apartment was stuck in stasis, frozen in time at the exact moment she'd disappeared and he was frozen right along with it. He understood, without any hint of melodrama, that he wouldn't survive the rest of his life without her. He hadn't known Kikyo long enough to lose his heart to her. The guilt and depression he felt over her death was because he'd failed to protect her. He'd screwed up and she'd paid the price for his failure with her life.

Things with Kagome were completely different. Losing her…just wasn't an option. His heart was too far in it to get out unscathed and he was glad for it, glad that there was finally something in his life worth fighting for, worth dying for. It made him feel more like a man and less like some inhuman thing that'd been used, wasted and beaten until it was dispensable without a second thought.

Taking one last turn about the room his eyes fell on a collection of articles she'd been working on, stacked somewhat neatly on her desk. He glanced at the title of the first one – something about a senator and illegal dealings. Next to the stack of papers a tiny square of wood grain peeked through the clutter. He stared at it for a moment, trying to decide if the space normally occupied by her laptop was vacant because it'd been stolen or because...

With a look of grim determination on his face he stalked purposefully down the hall into the kitchen. Kouga had his head buried in the fridge, perusing its contents for something edible. He glanced overtop the open door when he noticed Inuyasha watching him.

"Get your keys dog shit we're leaving."

"Huh?" The fridge door slammed shut and the sounds of Kouga retrieving his jacket from the countertop could be heard down the small hallway leading to the entrance. He stretched his arms over his head and pulled the jacket on as he followed Inuyasha to the door.

"You got a lead or something?" he asked while fishing inside his pocket for the car keys. They jingled noisily when he pulled them out, fumbled them and almost dropped them to the tile floor.

Inuyasha cast a scowl over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. Slipping his own set of keys out of his pocket he wrenched the door open and stepped into the hall.

"Yeah, you could say that. We're makin' a stop at the Asahi Shimbun building."

xXx

The elevator slowed to a halt at the thirtieth floor. A tiny bell chimed and the brass doors, polished to a mirror like finish, spread open. He stepped out, his leather loafers soundless on the richly carpeted floor. Hands stuffed casually into his pockets he headed for the office at the end of the hall, his every move reeking of self-importance. As he passed by he glanced over at his secretary's desk.

It was strange to see it vacant. Normally she'd be frantically typing away at the keyboard, pen wedged between her teeth, ignoring the phone that was always ringing off the hook. She never stopped, never left her desk and was always there well past closing. He hadn't expected her to be here, it was well after hours, but it felt strange to find her missing all the same. He jingled his keys in his pocket and made a mental note to buy her something nice for the holidays.

The silence in the darkened hallway suddenly felt overloud in his ears and he became acutely aware of his movements. He stopped jingling his keys and reached for the chrome handle extending from the frosted glass door at the end of the hall. The door led to his office which was half the size of the building and had the best panoramic view in the city. He'd designed it himself – it exuded power, wealth and expensive taste, just like him. With a tiny creak the door swung wide to reveal a figure darkened by the evening shadows sitting atop his desk, one leg crossed over the other.

Breathing deeply he let out a satisfied sigh and pushed the door shut behind him with the sole of his shoe. The moment it closed his finger slipped between the expensive silk tie at his throat and the collar of his dress shirt, tugging it loose. He watched her watching him, noting the tense arch of her shoulders, the curving frown of her ruby lips, the way her hands clutched at the edge of the desk until her knuckles showed white. She hated him, she loathed the very fact that he existed and yet here she was, playing whore for him just like she always did.

He stepped purposefully towards his desk. His hand snapped the top two buttons loose on his collar letting the cool air swath against his exposed throat. He smirked as he drew closer and she uncrossed her legs. He fit perfectly between them. Catching her jaw in his hand he forced her eyes to meet his. The shudder of revulsion that ran through her excited him.

"Ahh Kagura," he breathed, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

As he spoke he slowly drew out the pins holding her hair up, one by one. The glossy dark locks slipped slowly down to cover her shoulders. He ran his fingers through them appreciatively before snagging a fistful and bringing her throat to his lips. He felt himself grow hard at her gasp of pain as he wrenched her neck to the side and bathed her neck in sensual kisses.

"It's her. I'm certain of it this time," she managed to push out through clenched teeth. He smiled against her skin and pulled back, his expression dark.

"You're certain my pet? I wouldn't want a repeat of last time."

She visible shrank back at the dark gleam that entered his eyes and vigorously shook her head. "No, no," she stuttered in a pleading tone. "I made sure it was her. We finally have her."

His grim smile was the most genuine he could muster as his mind toyed with that new tidbit of information. Today hadn't been a particularly pleasant day, but knowing that he finally had the bitch in his clutches, to know that she was his for the taking, certainly made the rest of it seem inconsequential.

He leered hungrily at Kagura, his cock hard, his body desperately needing a release of some kind. Though she never denied him he could read the fear and loathing in her eyes as clear as if she'd said it aloud. It'd taken nearly a year to break her but it'd been well worth the effort.

Snatching her up by the hair he pressed a hungry, bruising kiss against her lips and forced her back atop the desk. She didn't resist his movements but there was a long festering hatred in her eyes when she looked up at him. It was exactly how he liked his women – beautiful, angry and vulnerable; she played the part so well.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ This chapter was done a lot quicker than I thought it would be. Thank you to everyone who sent me reviews these past couple weeks (and since the beginning!). Your continued support is just incredible.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on our mysterious villain!

Until next time…

Langus :)


	15. Prometheus Bound

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 15

- Prometheus Bound -

He shifted in the large, oversized leather chair and crossed his legs. The small man sitting across from him provided little to keep his mind occupied. A look of disgust briefly crossed his features as he watched him push a pair of too-large, dark-rimmed glasses onto his nose in a flustered gesture for the tenth time since they'd sat down.

Impatient for their meeting to adjourn, he let his eyes rove about the small office. The lower half of the walls were oak paneled, the upper half painted a soothing blue-grey. Various over-sized bookshelves crammed with well-thumbed texts were placed sporadically about the room with no apparent rhyme or reason for their arrangement. Beneath his Italian leather loafers was a lush carpet, purposefully neutral. Dotting the walls in tripartite clusters were various academic accolades, framed and mounted as per government regulation.

He glanced out the large floor-to-ceiling window to his right with a bored expression. It was cloudy outside. It'd been grey all week, but every once in a while a hint of sunlight broke through. This wasn't one of those times. The sky was dismally bleak and promised snow.

"So what should I call you today?"

The voice of the small man cut rudely into his thoughts. It was surprising that someone with such an uninspiring stature could hold such confidence in his tone. He ignored the doctor's inquiry and asked himself the same question he pondered every time he came to this place – _Why am I here?_

He'd been attending these weekly meetings for over a year now and felt no more or less psychotic than he did when he'd started them. Wishing to keep himself entertained for the next fifty-two minutes though, he played along with the doctor's little game. It was the same damn thing every time they met but once in a while he made it interesting.

Composed, he uncrossed his legs and stood. With practiced ease he retrieved an ornate silver case from the inside pocket of his blazer, withdrew a cigarette and lit it casually at his lips. He sucked in a deep drag and let it out slowly before stepping towards the window. His disinterested gaze ignored the city humming and bustling twenty-two stories below and fixed on the gloomy skies rolling out for miles ahead of him. He was lord of this domain and the city below was his playground. From where he stood, nothing could touch him. He was a god among men.

"Prometheus," he answered after a moment of drawn out silence and took another drag. He didn't need to glance over his shoulder to know that a look of flustered excitement was lighting up the doctor's face.

"Ah," the doctor breathed, "the Greek god of fire! An interesting choice."

The sound of a pen scratching against paper was overloud in the otherwise muffled room. He pulled in another lungful of nicotine and flicked a small collection of ash off the end of his cigarette. It was ironic, he couldn't help but notice, that this room - designed to exude an atmosphere of calm and relaxation – felt so sterile and suffocating to him. He wondered sometimes if it was the same for all the other crazies that walked through the door.

He crossed his arms casually in front of his chest and rested his shoulder against the wall. A thin stream of blue smoke curled and writhed around his head like a wreath. The curve of his mouth was sharp and downward, signifying his impatience with the whole thing. If he strained his eyes he could just make out the outline of the mountains in the distance. Only forty-three minutes left to go.

"Last session you were Iago, why the change?"

He didn't feel like answering that question. Kagura's news from the previous night occupied his mind, distracting him. As her words rang in his ears _It's her. I'm certain of it…_ a feeling of cool satisfaction spread outwards from his chest. He could hardly contain his excitement. Just the thought of wrapping his hands around that creamy, slender throat was enough to make his blood blaze and send it rushing rampant through his veins like wildfire. He had to be patient though. If the timing wasn't absolutely perfect then the climax wouldn't be nearly as satisfying.

Turning away from the window he stalked quietly towards the nearest bookshelf with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the cigarette burning idly between his fingers. He glanced with feigned interest at the hard cover books arranged by height. Without hesitating he slipped one out from the stack and aimlessly flipped through it. It was volume one of _The Collected Clinical Works of Alfred Adler: the Neurotic Character_.

_How fitting_, he mused and skimmed through a couple paragraphs.

"_Neurosis is the natural, logical development of an individual who is comparatively inactive, filled with a personal, egocentric striving for superiority, and is therefore retarded in the development of his social interest, as we find regularly among the more passive pampered styles of life."_

The book snapped shut and he discarded it atop the shelf with a flick of his wrist. A bored sigh left his lips as he moved lethargically across the room to stand behind the leather chair he'd been sitting in earlier.

The doctor looked up at him expectantly, his pen eagerly poised overtop his notebook. Right…he still hadn't answered his question. Feeling his disgust towards the man grow and fester the longer he looked at him, he turned his gaze towards the window. As his thoughts wandered, his hands slipped over the high, round arches of the backrest and caressed the soft leather.

"I've found her," he admitted quietly with a sense of satisfaction ringing in his tone.

"Who have you found?"

"Pandora."

The doctor scribbled a few words down and nodded his head attentively. He felt him glance up but he was no longer paying any attention. His mind was already lost in a dark fantasy of his own making.

"A deceitful beauty full of lies; the source of all mankind's pain," he elaborated wistfully, speaking only to himself now.

The doctor set his pen and paper on the small table at his side and folded his hands in his lap. One leg crossed soundlessly over the other. "Ah," he observed, "you've been searching for this Pandora for some time."

_You have no idea._

"What do you intend to do now that you've found her?"

It was an interesting question. He turned his back to hide the smile brewing on his lips. He could practically hear her screams, her pleas for mercy. His hand fisted at his side as he remembered what it felt like to break bones. Poor little thing didn't have a clue what she was in for. He would've pitied her if he weren't so damn happy about it.

"I'm going to punish her for being such a troublesome bitch," he confessed quietly.

He was no longer speaking in metaphors, but the doctor didn't seem to notice. Here it was - a genuine glimpse into his madness, a true image of the calculating killer that lurked beneath the surface and the fool hadn't a clue.

He was going to take great pleasure in making that bitch suffer for everything she'd cost him. She was going to beg for death by the time he was done with her and then, only after he'd thoroughly broken her, would he step in like the archangel himself to deliver the final, merciful blow.

"I'll destroy her," he promised aloud, his voice ringing with triumph. Noticing the look of alarm that briefly crossed the doctor's features he tilted his head towards him with a genial smile and added, "-hypothetically of course."

"Yes of course," he conceded but the wary concern didn't leave his eyes. Snatching the pen and paper off the table he jotted down a few more notes and flipped through his previous writings.

"It seems we've made progress," he pointed out over the rustle of loose leaf. "Has the medication helped at all? Have you noticed any changes?"

He nodded absently. His mind was already far away, entertaining a litany of schemes detailing the numerous ways and exactly how hard he would break his intended victim. It'd been a long time since he'd been this excited – about anything really. He hadn't felt like this since before-

"Good to hear it!" The doctor's voice cut rudely into his thoughts for the second time in under an hour. It was a horrible habit, one of his most annoying.

"Should I pencil you in for next week?" he asked perfunctorily, and scheduled the appointment in his day timer without waiting for a response. The doctor glanced up just in time to hear the soft click of the door closing.

In the waiting room he breathed in the scent of freedom and cast a disinterested eye at the collection of patients waiting in the too-small, poorly padded chairs that lined the far wall. Each one had the same sombre expression, the same dead look in their eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at the name plate on the door and smirked. He remembered now why he came here every week. He had so much fun fucking with him.

Easing his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks, he made his way towards the exit. As he passed by the secretary's desk he winked at the twenty-something, bleached-blonde tramp seated behind it and smirked inwardly at the coy smile she sent him in response.

Fucking with them…it was so easy sometimes it was frightening.

xXx

_She hasn't said anything in a while._

The errant thought travelled unwelcome into his mind. He tried to push it away, took another swig of beer, glanced towards the windows to distract himself but found his eyes drawn to her. She hadn't moved in a while either. Her body was bent forward until her head almost touched her knees and the waves of her dark hair obscured her features. Considering the fact that she still had broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder it had to be an uncomfortable position.

He ignored the nagging voice inside his head that suggested he should check on her and stood up to stretch his legs. This was the longest he'd ever spent guarding a "problem" and he was beginning to resent her for it. Normally it was an in and out sort of deal but this time everything was different. Kagura almost never made an appearance – that in and of itself was a tell-tale sign that something was up with this girl - but the fact that the Boss was pushing four days without having someone come by to take care of her was just plain out of character.

Kesuke stretched his arms above his head and let out a groan as the kinks in his shoulders worked themselves out. Shaking off the drowsy feeling that'd had him on the edge of sleep all afternoon, he glanced over at the girl and heaved a sigh. It really was time to check on her. If by some slim chance she died under his watch there'd be hell to pay for sure.

With a resigned frown he set his half-finished beer atop the mini-fridge and made his way towards her. She didn't make a sound as he approached. From the steady rise and fall of her shoulders he assumed she was either asleep of unconscious. _Well she's breathing at least, that was a good sign._

He hadn't minded when she'd first gone quiet. The girl liked to bitch and when she finally gave it up he'd thanked the gods for the merciful reprieve. As if being cooped up in this cess pit wasn't bad enough! He was starting to wonder if maybe he'd pissed someone off somewhere down the line and they'd holed him up in here with her for punishment.

She looked pretty vulnerable now though. He tilted her head back with his fingers under her chin and studied her features with a sceptical eye. She looked pretty pale too. He pushed her body gently backwards until she collapsed against the chair. Her head lolled until she faced the ceiling. Not a wince or a grimace or a sharp intake of breath came from her. _Not good_.

Kesuke crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled at the unconscious girl in front of him. He wasn't a doctor, hell he barely knew what pain medication to take when he got a headache, and here she'd decided to go all unconscious on him. Hell, even he knew that she wasn't looking good and that was saying something.

In a moment of weakness he glanced at the bucket resting on its side a few feet away but quickly pushed the idea out of his mind. He couldn't do that to her again. He knew from experience that it was like having a thousand needles piercing your skin simultaneously and apart from the bitching she hadn't done anything to deserve it.

Deciding that less drastic measures were probably best he took a step towards her and lightly slapped her face. Nothing. His brow wrinkled in a frown and he tried again – a little harder this time. Still nothing. A flash of panic shot through him. He reached out and grasped her uninjured shoulder, shaking her hard enough to rattle her teeth. That got him a pained sounding groan but not much else. He looked towards the bucket again and swiped his hand over his face. _Shit…_

"What the hell do you want?"

Her voice was hoarse and it cracked when she spoke, her words were slurred and on top of that they were so soft he could barely understand what she'd said, yet her voice was the most beautiful thing he'd heard in a long while. He was careful to set his face into its usual indifferent expression before he looked at her. She was glaring up at him through tangles of hair, looking absolutely livid at the fact that he'd bothered to wake her.

"Oh…you're up," he remarked casually and made his way towards the mini fridge to retrieve his beer.

"Well now I am," was her scathing reply and he felt a pang of guilt run through him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and watched her quietly for a minute or so. It was obvious she was in a lot of pain, he could tell by the way her hands trembled behind her back, but she hadn't brought it up once. All she wanted to know was who'd taken her, why she was there, what organization he worked for – all the questions he couldn't give her answers to.

His stomach growled loudly as he reached the fridge and he opened the door to retrieve the package of rice balls his wife had made for him. Snatching the beer off the top of the fridge, he closed the door with his elbow and stalked back to his chair, dinner in hand. He'd only just settled himself in his chair and lifted the lid of the bento box when he realized something. The girl hadn't eaten in nearly four days. He glanced up at her feeling sheepish and caught the rabid hunger in her eyes before she stubbornly looked away.

He'd known obstinate, hell he could probably write a book on it, but never like this. This girl's picture could practically be in the dictionary right next to the definition. Maybe obstinate wasn't the right word…she was proud too – too proud to ask for something to eat despite the fact that she was literally starving to death. With a sigh of resignation he glanced down at the bento box, his mouth watering at the sight of three perfectly formed rice balls. He wife had a talent for making them. She usually stuffed the centers with a little something extra – some sweet and sour pork or teriyaki chicken – to help hide the fact that it was such a meagre offering. After selecting one for himself he held the box towards her. She didn't so much as turn her head.

"Look, I suggest you start eating unless you want to die here," he pointed out, his voice laced with irritation. He was offering her the only meal he had for the next however many days and she had the audacity to snub her nose at it?

She turned towards him at that. Her eyes were dark and filled with contempt when she caught sight of the box and the rice ball already held in his hand.

"Is that some kind of joke?" she asked darkly. "How exactly am I supposed to eat it?"

_Oops…_

Shit, he'd completely forgotten that her hands were tied behind her back. Trying to save face, he sighed impatiently, stood and set the bento box on his chair. After tucking his rice ball inside he slipped a switchblade from his pocket and walked towards her.

For a moment she looked genuinely frightened. Her eyes widened as he approached, as though she was sure he'd slice her open. Instead he crouched behind her and sawed through the ropes binding her hands without comment and went back to his seat. The bento box he held out to her until she gingerly accepted it from him and set it atop her lap.

He quickly devoured his rice ball in a few ravenous bites and watched curiously as she studied the meal set in front of her. For a long while she did nothing but stare into the box, her hands stuck to the sides as if they'd been glued there. He tried not to look at the lesions on her wrists from where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw.

She looked up at him and caught his eye unexpectedly. He froze, not sure what to do and then she smiled. It wasn't big but it was genuine – her way of saying thank you. Feeling somewhat better about the whole thing he nodded his head and stood to give her some privacy while she ate.

Within minutes the conversation between them had drifted off. The eerie silence of their prison was punctuated by the odd horn blast from the ships passing by the pier and nothing else. He combed his fingers through his hair and frowned at how dirty it felt. It was far past time for a shower. If the Boss didn't show today he'd have to ask for a replacement so he could get cleaned up and change his clothes at least.

He cast a curious glance over his shoulder at the girl and watched her slip a large bite past her lips. Sure, he could leave her to someone else, but what then? Most guys in the gang weren't nearly as soft as he was and beat up or not she was still attractive. Despite the Boss's strict "no touch" policy he doubted few would actually listen. There were only so many things a man could do to pass the time.

Frowning, he braced his hand against the wall and peered out a tiny hole carved into the caked on filth of the windows. The winter grey seemed impenetrable. He couldn't even determine what time of day it was, whether it was sunrise or sunset – all he knew was that it wasn't night. He could've checked his cell phone if he really needed to know the time, but in these types of situations it was best not to. The hours dragged if you counted them and the waiting could drive a man half crazy.

The piercing electronic melody of his ring tone pierced the air so unexpectedly he actually jumped. He fished the blasted piece of technology out of his pants pocket and glared down at it, his features softening once he realized who it was. Flipping the phone open he pressed it to his ear and smiled at the sound of his daughter's voice on the other end of the line.

xXx

She'd stopped feeling hunger a while ago. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, or day even, it was just a gradual realization that dawned on her when she woke up this last time. The gnawing ache that'd resided in the pit of her stomach suddenly wasn't there any longer and she didn't miss it. It was just one less thing to worry about.

_I could use a glass of water though,_ she realized and grimaced at the way her tongue felt like sandpaper inside her mouth.

_How long have I been here now?_ It was impossible to tell really. The dirt caked on the windows only allowed the barest hint of light to peep through, not even enough to tell whether it was day or night. And the man…well he might as well have been dead for all the help he was.

She glared hard at him as she ate, memorizing the features of his face and the clothes on his back. When she got out of here she wanted to make sure that at least one of these grimy bastards suffered for what she'd been through. She smiled inwardly at the satisfying thought of seeing him locked up behind bars for the rest of his life and then became conscious of the rice ball's solid weight in her palm. She glanced down at it as realization dawned on her and guiltily swallowed her previous bite.

Nothing said he was obligated to untie her hands or share his dinner with her. Nothing said he had to be civil towards her or allow her to sleep without the fear of being raped. She glanced down at what was left of the rice ball in her hand and felt her insides wither. Sure he was yakuza and sure he'd helped hold her hostage, but when it came right down to it she really could've done a lot worse. _Well…_she thought regarded him sceptically, nothing said she had to like him either. Tolerate him yes, like him no. Decent guy or not, he was still yakuza and he'd kill her if given the order.

Meal finished, she set the bento box on the floor and took to working the knots holding the rope around her wrists loose. Every so often she glanced up to study her mysterious guard while he talked on his cell phone. His back was to her and his voice low, but with nothing else around to absorb the sound his words were deflected off the tin walls and right back at her. She could hear them as clearly as if she was standing directly in front of him.

"Did you have a good day at school?"

The high pitched voice on the other end of the line told her he was talking to a child. She blinked as the knowledge sunk in and looked away. _He has a kid?_ A bout of excited words and giggles floated through the dank air towards her and she flopped against the backrest of her chair. Well…that certainly changed things. She hadn't considered he was anything more than a yakuza lackey but now he had a kid?

_And a young one too…_she reasoned judging by the tone of voice. _Probably a deadbeat father._

"Mama wants to know when I'll be home? Tell her soon….I know I promised sweetie, but Daddy's at work. I'll be home as soon as I can."

Curious now, she tuned her ear to his conversation. She wanted to know everything she could about this man. Who knew when knowledge like that would come in handy? _It might just be my ticket out of here…_ she thought with a determined nod of her head.

"Love you too. Be good for your mom…Bye sweetie."

The click of the cell phone snapping shut resounded through the cavernous space around them. She glanced away and tried to make the far wall seem interesting but it was painfully obvious she'd been listening. He cast a disconcerted look in her direction and flopped into his chair with a grunt. The metal hinges squeaked in protest under his weight but didn't break.

Deciding it was better to talk than sit in awkward silence Kagome turned her gaze towards him. He was staring at her plainly, as if he'd been expecting her to do just that.

"How old is your daughter?" she asked point blank. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked sceptical. After thinking it over for a few seconds he relaxed back into the chair and stuck one foot out in front of him.

"She'll be six next month."

She nodded and tucked that little detail away. So she'd been right after all – not only did he have a family, but a young one too.

"What's her name?"

He didn't hesitate this time. "Yuriko."

He didn't know why he was answering her questions. He wasn't a rookie – he knew the rules and had had no problem abiding by them. Everyone knew that you were supposed to avoid talking to hostages. Once they became more than a job, once they developed that human element and you became emotionally attached, well that's when things got sticky. It was a lot harder to put a bullet in the head of someone you thought was a half decent guy then when you thought of them as just another hit.

Despite knowing better he found himself relaxing into a somewhat easy, if halting, conversation with the girl. He had to admit – he was curious about her too. And even if he wasn't, sheer boredom alone would've convinced him to speak.

"That's a really beautiful name," she remarked.

The way she looked at him when she said it expressed her thoughts loud and clear. _I can't believe someone like you thought of a name that beautiful._ Well, she wasn't entirely wrong, his wife had picked it out, but it didn't make it any easier to accept the look coming from her. It'd taken a lifetime for him to come to terms with who and what he was and he didn't need to be reminded by her of just how lucky he was to be living the live he had.

Meeting Masari and been a completely random stroke of luck and fate. She was still in college then, working towards a degree in accounting. He was a high school drop out working in his uncle's bicycle repair shop. He'd been outside enjoying a smoke the day she'd literally walked into his life.

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her as she passed by on the sidewalk. One glance was enough to tell anyone who cared to look that she wasn't from that part of town. Her clothes were relatively new and fashionable, her hair was cut into a stylish bob and highlighted, and when she moved it was with a kind of grace and elegance that just didn't exist in his district.

His world stalled along with the breath in his lungs when she'd passed by him. She didn't even know he was there. That was of course until some young punk ran by and snagged the purse off her shoulder before rudely shoving her into the side of a nearby building. He hadn't even hesitated. He'd run after the kid full tilt, tackled him a few blocks away and beat the shit out of him. Then he'd collected her purse, emptied the punk's wallet to collect the 'asshole tax' and made his way back to her.

She was standing outside the entrance to his store with her arms wrapped around her body and her shoulder pressed into the rough brick wall. He'd offered her the purse with a hesitant smile and she'd taken it from him with shaky hands. Then she'd asked him his name, asked if she could take him out for a coffee sometime to thank him and he couldn't believe he'd heard her correctly.

Experience had taught him that girls like her didn't associate with guys like him. They were untouchable and he and the rest were just dirty pariahs, destined to always look up at what they couldn't have. He'd given her his business card though, and true to her word she'd called him up a few days later to invite him for coffee. Two years later they were married and two years after that Yuriko had been born. He still wondered sometimes if it'd all been a dream. How did someone like him get off that lucky anyway? He kept telling himself there'd be hell to pay for it eventually but for now he'd milk it for all it was worth. Fate could catch up with him later.

"Does it bother your wife you're in the yakuza?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure it does but the bills've gotta get paid somehow. It's not like I wanted to be in the yakuza ya know, but a man's gotta eat and be able to put food on the table. Working at my uncle's bike shop just wasn't gonna cut it once Yuriko came and without my high school diploma it wasn't like I was gonna get a decent payin' job anywhere else."

He whistled sharply and slapped his hand down against his thigh. "Well there you got it, my whole life story."

He glanced towards the window, irritated with himself for telling her as much as he had. He was never this talkative, not even at home, but just the same it felt good to justify it to someone. He really wasn't a bad person…but why the hell did it matter so much to him what she thought? Why did he feel the need to prove he was a decent human being? One yakuza was probably just as dirty and deadly as another as far as she was concerned.

The girl's next soft spoken remark drew his attention back to her.

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to run away?"

He considered it a moment, evaluated her with a narrowed eye, and then shook his head. "Naw. I bet you couldn't even stand upright without fainting. You haven't eaten in four days. I'm surprised you're still conscious and talking to be honest."

Kagome pondered that one. _Four days huh?_ It was looking less and less likely that she was going to be rescued or that Inuyasha was going to come for her. Even though she told herself not to let it bother her, the other yakuza lackey's crass comments had been haunting her thoughts off and on.

_What if they really did kill Inuyasha?_ she wondered with a troubled frown. She still had no idea why she'd been dragged into this mess, but if it really was about her then the last thing she'd want was for him to be hurt or killed because of it. Even if she made it out of this alive, knowing that he'd…the guilt alone would destroy her.

"So Princess…what's your name anyway?"

Kagome regarded him thoughtfully, debating whether she should tell him or not. His expression was still cautious but more open now that they'd talked. She nibbled on her bottom lip and massaged the cool tips of her fingers. It'd been nearly an hour and they were still cold to the touch from where the ropes had cut off her circulation. She glanced down and encircled her wrist with her fingers, resting their cool touch against her fiery, raw skin.

"Kagome. Kagome Higurashi."

She looked up at him expectantly and he nodded once. "Kesuke. Kesuke Yaguro. Nice to meet ya."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Less than a month between updates this time! Huzzah! Sorry it took a little while – I got stuck marking a hundred undergrad history exams :P

Well hopefully you like this newest addition. You get another look at our yet to be named villain and a glance into his mind. There's a reason I included references to Greek mythology…I'll leave it to you to do the detective work to figure it out :) You also get a bit more background on our other pseudo bad guy Kesuke. I don't know about you guys but I kinda like him :)

Okay I'm just rambling now, but please leave a review! Your reviews are fuel for my fingers so type type away!

- Langus


	16. Starlight Tokyo

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 16

- Starlight Tokyo -

The sombre winter moon sagged low on the horizon; glowing and half hidden behind a haze of clouds. He gazed up at it, hands stuffed deep within his pockets to hide them from the winter chill, and felt a distinct sense of camaraderie with the lonely sphere.

"So this is your spot huh?"

Her voice drifted to him, as though in a dream, and he willingly lost himself to the memory.

"I like it."

He nodded at the simple affirmation, as though it didn't matter, but his eyes were intense and followed her every move with anxious expectation. She stepped to the edge of the rocky ledge, careful to keep back a few paces from the precipice, and surveyed the landscape below. He knew the view well and smiled inwardly at the sound of her awed gasp.

A vast array of technicolour lights from the city swam below them, glowing and humming in a hypnotic rhythm that was both peaceful and mind-numbing. When Kikyo died he'd come here often. More than once he'd stood on the edge of that same cliff, lost in the grips of a moment of weakness and self-loathing, and debated throwing himself off of it. The intangible freedom the night sky offered was intoxicating, especially when he'd had nothing else to keep him grounded. He hadn't gone through with it of course, but the temptation had been there more than once and the memory of how close he'd come haunted him.

He wasn't weak anymore; not like that at least, not any more. He allowed himself a rare, genuine smile at the sight of her silhouette and shifted his weight back against the windshield. He didn't regret bringing her here and he didn't need more than her simple affirmation to know that she appreciated the gesture – an unspoken reminder of the comfortable level of trust and acceptance that'd developed between them. Crossing his legs casually at the ankles, he pushed his hat up and took in the dizzying sight of the infinite night sky.

She joined him on the hood of the car a few moments later after her curiosity had been appeased. She shot him a genial smile, the kind he used to pine for and now received on occasion, and took an eager bite of the ketchup laden hot dog in her hands. He still couldn't believe he'd found a woman who considered herself a street meat connoisseur.

She'd told him once about a hot dog vendor that'd hung around her campus while she was still in university. He was an early retiree, a stock broker who'd made his fortune by the time he was thirty-five. At forty he'd decided to quit his job to sell hot dogs to students instead; insisted it was the best decision he'd ever made. With her hectic schedule she'd found herself relying on him for sustenance and after a few years of a diet that consisted primarily of hot dogs and sausages she considered herself to be something of an expert. As far as he was concerned, that hardly excused her elitist attitude towards condiments – the crazy wench only ever used ketchup.

He took a bite of his own dinner – a hot dog laden with all the fixin's, minus onion of course, and chewed it thoughtfully. He wasn't particularly hungry, but the taste was familiar and comforting in his mouth. He frowned with disappointment as he swallowed and looked with dismay at the collection of vibrant red, yellow and green toppings filling his bun. It really wasn't the same without the onion. Too bad it was such a damn mood killer. Indulging in it had to be relegated to occasions when he wasn't expecting to get some.

_Which isn't often_, he thought with a licentious smirk.

With the last bite of his dinner gone, he brought a hand to rest behind his head and laid the other atop his comfortably full stomach. The night was quiet around them but for the orchestra of twilight insects competing against the insistent, steady hum of the city below. His gaze rested thoughtfully on the moon for a moment before drifting to the various constellations hovering around it. Up here the dark of the night felt more intense somehow and the stars stood out in vivid gleaming pinpoints against their nebulous backdrop. Despite a week's worth of heavy rains, the sky was clear and cloudless – perfect for stargazing.

Feeling utterly satisfied, which was a rare thing for him at the best of times, he turned his head to the side and took in the way she stared rapt at the heavens while she finished her dinner. He hadn't been sure if taking her here was the right call. It was still early, things were new and fresh and there was an element of hesitation behind every decision. This place was his sanctuary. It was the one spot he could go to get away from the world and all its problems. Here, alone with his thoughts, he could just exist without being dragged down by responsibility and obligation. Before tonight he'd been the only one who knew about this safe haven, tucked away from the rest of the world, and now she knew about it too.

He studied her peaceful expression a moment longer before turning away. She hadn't said a word in a long while, and neither had he, but the silence that'd settled between them was comfortable and resounded with the mutual understanding that nothing needed to be said. She'd understood exactly what this place was and what it meant to him. Her reverence and silent appreciation were enough to convince him that he'd been right on both accounts – about her and the decision to bring her here.

An inaudible sigh escaped his lips as he tried to melt his shoulders into the windshield. That's the problem with relaxing against the hood of your car – it's always so damn uncomfortable. He frowned at the knot between his shoulder blades and shifted his body back and forth to iron it out. He'd only just found a comfortable groove when a wayward piece of bread bounced off his cheek, making his body jerk forward in surprise.

He stared down at the inconspicuous morsel with an incredulous expression and picked it up between his claws. With a growl he stared at her expectantly, holding the bread out to her. She turned towards him with an eyebrow raised, feigning innocence despite the fact that there was a clear chunk torn out of the end of her hot dog bun. He raised an eyebrow of his own and she smirked.

"That's what you get for staring," she chided playfully and chuckled silently at the bewildered expression on his face.

"So that's how you want to play it huh?" he demanded, a hint of playfulness entering his tone. He made a half-hearted lunge for her across the hood of the car, but she was too quick. With a squeal she slipped out of his reach and slid off the far side of the hood. She gazed at him from her safe spot next to the passenger door and grinned. That was another thing he liked about her – she always knew just the right moment to lighten the mood.

He caught her eventually, or rather, she let him catch her, and he pinned her between his body and the car. From the laughter shimmering in her eyes she didn't seem to mind being his temporary captive. Caught up in the moment, he'd tangled his hands in her dark hair and kissed her long and hard while they bathed in the cool blue glow of the moonlight. It was a rare perfect moment; fleeting yet so utterly satisfying in every way that just the memory of it could be enough to sustain a heart for a lifetime.

_I need more of those moments_…

He thought this despairingly as he took in the view of the Asahi Shimbun building before him, silhouetted against the darkened night sky. The mass of concrete and darkened glass looked both ominous and foreboding; a harbinger of unbidden memories and loosely concealed insecurities. He stared up at it contemplative silence and attempted to shake off the lingering emotions brought on by his memories of her. Inside that mammoth structure was either the one clue that would lead him to her or nothing at all.

He bit back a sudden, powerful craving for a cigarette and a stiff drink and toyed with the lighter in his pocket. He wasn't the type of person who accepted defeat easily but it was hard not to feel discouraged right about now. He'd wasted so much time… so many days. She'd never forgive him if she knew and he couldn't stomach the thought of what she might've already suffered because of him.

He'd seen what people were like after being taken by the yakuza. She deserved better than that – to eek out an existence as a member of the walking dead; soulless, joyless, and broken. She deserved far better than him too, a jarring realization he'd made a while ago.

She'd breathed life back into his veins and reshaped the future he'd long thought destroyed; she'd saved him and he'd failed her in every way one person can fail another. He knew the truth, understood it more clearly than he would've liked, and yet he couldn't find it within himself to let her go. He needed her - needed her because he was scared to death of going back to a life without her. This building was his last hope, his final prayer to the gods whom never seemed to listen; he needed that clue to be inside.

His face was grim as he stared up at the windows facing the street. A sparse few were lit from within by the white glow of artificial light, shining like beacons into the dark night. He surveyed them a moment before his eyes settled on the brightly lit offices of the third floor. Hers was among them, likely sitting untouched in the same state of haphazard disarray she'd left it in.

Kouga sidled up alongside him all of a sudden. He flipped up the collar of his jacket and made a point of shivering. "Shit! This cold is something else huh?"

The rhetorical question went unanswered and he stuffed his hands under his arms to give them a reprieve from the bitter wind. His gaze followed Inuyasha's and soon they were both staring up at array of brightly lit windows on the third floor.

"So this is it huh? What're you lookin' for anyway?"

Inuyasha shrugged one shoulder in a hapless gesture. "Dunno. I'll know it when I see it."

He blew out a heavy breath and watched the white cloud of condensation dissipate in the winter air. Above their heads the clouds had dispersed, leaving behind an impenetrable black sky decorated by the pinpoint light of a billion stars and a full white moon. The crisp wind pushed against his back, urging him forward as it flung loose strands of silver hair into his eyes.

He'd been to the building enough times to know his way around and certainly enough times to hope that they didn't run into anyone else. The array of lights illuminating the third floor didn't bode well. If he knew one truth about reporters, it was that they were too damn nosey for their own good. The last thing they needed was to read a press bulletin to be in the morning paper – _Kagome Higurashi, journalist, abducted by yakuza!_

He took a step forward and cast a glance over his shoulder just in time to catch Kouga's dubious expression. He frowned and turned back around, his shoulders riding up around his ears in aggravation. This was exactly why he worked alone. He hated being second guessed and even more than that, he detested having to explain himself.

Detective work was a process. Everyone had their own groove and method for doing things. Kouga might not like his logic, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut. He was well aware of who was the better detective between them. The reason his cases had been falling behind these past few years had nothing to do with a lack of skill or talent – a sobering truth they were both acutely aware of.

With a dismissive shrug Kouga obediently fell in step behind Inuyasha and followed him inside. It didn't take much more than a flash of their badges at the front desk for the on-duty security guard to provide a personal escort to the third floor. With a mutual nod they dismissed him back to the lobby and after a shared glance, pushed their way through the double glass doors into the third floor offices.

The rows of fluorescent lights overhead filled the cavernous space in a harsh white glow. It wasn't exactly an office so much as it was a large open room crammed with as many desks as could possibly fit inside of it. The regular hectic buzz that normally filled the air with the sound of clacking keys, overloud conversations and persistently ringing phones was noticeably absent.

From where they stood side by side at the threshold it appeared as though the room was empty but for one lone reporter. He sat with his back to them, toiling away at his desk which just so happened to be directly across from Kagome's. He turned at the sound of their footsteps as they approached, one eyebrow raised above his dark rimmed glasses.

"Can I help you?" The biting condescension in his tone was hard to miss; it matched the thinly veiled look of disdain on his features perfectly.

Ignoring him, the pair made a beeline to Kagome's desk. While Inuyasha circled around it slowly, taking in the general appearance of the scene, Kouga took a minute to sift through a pile of news clippings haphazardly placed at one corner.

Realizing that he'd been ignored, the reporter pushed away from his desk and swivelled to face them. His chair creaked loud and long as he leaned back against it with an air of self-importance.

"_Excuse me_. I said 'Can I help you?'"

Inuyasha cast a dismissive glance over his left shoulder and bit out a curt "No." While his right hand flipped through the past week's worth of entries in Kagome's day timer, the other lifted open her laptop.

"That's private property! You can't touch that! If you don't have a warrant you can get the hell out of here."

The reporter was on his feet now, his index finger jabbing holes in the air. "You cops think you can just waltz in here whenever you please and help yourself to info on our sources? Maybe you didn't get the memo but this isn't a police state!"

Inuyasha's hands froze. Had the reporter been more perceptive he would've taken note of the Detective's rigid posture and the way his jaw was clenching and unclenching in silent fury. But he wasn't and he didn't. Bolstered by his own empty taunts, he pulled down his argyle sweater, straightened the rimless glasses on his nose and slicked his otherwise tousled hair back off his face.

"Yeah, that's right. You heard me. Don't even try to deny that you're breaking about ten different personal rights and freedoms right about now. You guys didn't even have the balls to come here during regular business hours. I'm going to _love_ writing a bit about this."

After a deep, calming breath, Inuyasha's hands twitched back into motion. With her laptop screen open he turned the device on and waited patiently for it to load.

By this time Kouga was watching the intense one-sided stand off with interest. Takahashi wasn't exactly the type to take that kind of verbal abuse sitting down. The amount of restraint he was showing given the circumstances was admirable. Even so, it wouldn't take much to set him off. It was because he knew this that Kouga kept a wary eye on his temporary partner.

For the reporter, it was Inuyasha's single, blatant act of defiance in turning Kagome's computer on that sealed the deal as far as he was concerned. With an outraged gasp he stormed across the aisle and slammed the screen of the laptop shut.

"Hey! I said that's private property! You've got no right-,"

The air was forced from his lungs when his body slammed hard into the adjacent wall and the rest of his sentence died a silent death on his lips. He barely had a chance to suck in a gasping breath before a forearm was wedged beneath his chin and he was staring into the blazing eyes of one seriously pissed off detective. He glanced horrified at the other cop but the only assistance he received was an unsympathetic shrug. The moment he turned his back to make a phone call, he felt his stomach sink to the floor. He was in some seriously deep shit now.

"Yeah, I heard yer bitchin' you annoying little piss ant," Inuyasha ground out. "It's my turn to talk now. You reporter types don't like listenin' much so I'm gonna say this nice and slow to make sure you understand."

For emphasis he ground his forearm into the man's throat just hard enough to hear him choke.

"I've got yer damn warrant right here," he stated, pulling a stack of folded letterhead sized papers from the inner pocket of his jacket. With a scowl he waved it back and forth in front of the reporter's eyes before tucking it away out of sight.

"Now since it's not your name that's on it and it's not your property bein' touched I don't answer to you. Since that's the case, I'm giving you fair warning that if you so much as blink in my direction again I will personally shove this warrant so far up your pretentious ass you'll be eating it for a week. Then I'll have myself a field day hauling your ass downtown to charge you with obstruction of justice, assault and harassment of an officer of the law. Are. We. Clear?"

The reporter's eyes widened and he managed a minute nod of his head. Inuyasha glared at the man's his beet red face that was by this time glistening with a fine sheen of nervous sweat. With a sound of disgust he relaxed the choking pressure of his arm against his throat and let the man drop suddenly to the floor. Turning his back, he ignored the loud gasping pants from behind him and focused his full attention on Kagome's work desk.

Lifting a quick glance, he noticed Kouga strutting towards him with a frown of disapproval on his face. His hands were fumbling with his jacket in an attempt to tuck his cell phone into one of the inner pockets.

"Try to keep a cool head would ya? I don't wanna spend the next six months covering your ass," he muttered in a low voice.

Inuyasha scoffed and re-opened Kagome's laptop. His eyes panned across the screen and after a moment of contemplation he typed in her password. When her desktop appeared and file windows began to open one after the other he breathed a sigh of relief. Collapsing with a 'whoosh' into her office chair, he glanced up over the screen to meet Kouga's stern expression.

"Yeah whatever," he remarked derisively. "The bastard's lucky I didn't let my fists do the talking. Goddamn reporters – the lot of them are friggin' annoying." This last sentiment he directed towards the startlingly quiet reporter who was occupied with hastily shoving the collection of files on his desk into his bag.

"Who was on the phone?"

Kouga shrugged, indifferent. "That? It was nothing. Just taking care of some business."

A noncommittal grunt sounded in the back of Inuyasha's throat and returned his full attention to Kagome's computer. With a few clicks of her mouse he was perusing a list of the last few web pages she'd visited. Feeling Kouga's eyes on him he smirked.

"So you gonna help or you just plan on standin' there watchin' the master at work?"

Kouga rolled his eyes and let the comment slide. It wasn't worth taking a shot back since the mutt wasn't listening anymore anyway. His eyes were glued to Kagome's computer screen, avidly reading through her files. It was strange to see him that way – completely engrossed in his work. It'd been a long time since that Inuyasha had been around but the change seemed promising.

His attention momentarily caught by the reporter's mad dash for the exit, Kouga watched him push through the double glass doors at the far end of the room and disappear into the darkened hallway with little remorse. He probably should've been annoyed with the mutt for his lack of protocol, but given the circumstances he could've cared less. With the reporter gone they could get down to work and communicate the way they needed to. He wouldn't say so aloud, but it was a job well done on Takahashi's part.

He watched the mutt thumbing through the well used day planner resting open next to Kagome's laptop for a few seconds before deciding to take inventory of the other items strewn about her desk. The space in front of him was covered with a half a dozen or so separate piles of paper and manila folders, obviously organized to her liking by some haphazard system.

Resigning himself to a long couple of hours, he rolled up a nearby chair, seated himself in it, and pulled a stack of manila folders onto his lap. Turning the first one horizontal, he read the label on the tab – _Lucky Akita Case._ One eyebrow rose in surprise and he eagerly pulled out the next folder. The tab read _Kikyo Inokuma Case_. He cast a wary glance up at Inuyasha, who was still engaged in his study of her computer, before quietly flipping open the Kikyo folder and perusing its contents.

_Why's she looking into Kikyo's case?_ he wondered as his eyes scanned the collection of news clippings and hand written notes paper clipped inside. He tilted his head to read one of her scribbles – "Kikyo Inokuma - daughter of Hachiro Inokuma?" Another one, further through the pile, had an arrow drawn from Hachiro Inokuma's name to the word "yakuza" which was underlined several times and followed by a series of question marks.

He was mildly impressed by her analytical skills based on her ability to connect Kikyo to Inokuma considering there were no readily available public records of their biological relationship. Kouga wondered if she'd ever considered a job in law enforcement as he moved on to the next folder.

The Akita folder was significantly lighter and filled with fewer notes, which was no surprise considering how tight-lipped their departments had been about the case. Browsing through her scribbles he realized that there was nothing there that hadn't been released to the public. Naturally he'd assumed that the mutt would've fed her some details, but from the looks of it he hadn't told her a thing.

Though his strict adherence to the departmental code of conduct was commendable, Kouga couldn't help but wonder why he'd done it. _Maybe to keep her from getting involved?_

It was a possibility… Her job might've had something to do with it too… He closed the folder with a shrug and moved on to the next one. It wasn't his business how the mutt conducted himself with her, as long as he wasn't smacking her around of course, but he couldn't picture Kagome as the kind of woman who'd appreciate being left in the dark, especially on such a high profile case.

After another hour of fruitless searching through manila folder after manila folder, Kouga finally admitted to himself that he'd gotten nowhere. With a defeated sigh he glanced up at his temporary partner who was stuck frowning in concentration at Kagome's day planner.

"You got something yet?" He wondered aloud as he sat up a little straighter in his chair. He tried to peer around Kagome's laptop but the angle was bad and he slumped back defeated.

Setting the collection of manila folders on his lap aside, he stretched his arms above his head and let loose a jaw cracking yawn. It was well past his bed time and it'd been hours since their last coffee break. He swiped his hand over his face and chaffed his cheeks to get the blood flowing to them again.

Takahashi, for his part, didn't appear to be tired or even remotely phased by the hours that'd crawled by. He grunted noncommittally before conceding a tentative, "Yeah, maybe…"

Kouga sat forward, his interest piqued. Inuyasha's brow furrowed and he ran a finger overtop the date book entry that'd caught his interest.

"Hey, is there a pencil at that desk behind you?" he asked suddenly.

Kouga cocked an eyebrow at the odd request, but nonetheless reached to the desk behind him to produce a pencil. He tossed it at the mutt and watched expectantly as he took a minute to scribble across the page he'd been studying. Once he was done, he set the pencil aside and sat back, his lips mouthing the hidden words his scribbling had revealed.

"What's that all about?" Kouga was on his feet now, peering across the desk at the entry. He tilted his head to the side and attempted to read it despite its upside down orientation.

Inuyasha nodded his head slowly, his golden eyes, suddenly alert and calculation, darting back and forth between the date book entry and whatever he was reading on her laptop screen.

"Well cut the suspense – you got something or not?" Kouga's voice cut rudely into his thoughts and Inuyasha sent him a derisive look.

"Quit your bitchin' would ya? I think I know where she went. Well…it's a start anyway."

Nodding his head approvingly, he stepped round the desk to read the only evidence they had to go on so far over Inuyasha's shoulder. Highlighted by the grey-tone of the pencil's lead, the faint white impressions left by a note written on a missing date entry stood out against the page – _Shiba Park 11:45_.

Both his eyebrows rose in disbelief and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Shiba Park was on the other side of town. It was a nice enough site during the day, popular with the tourists and all that, but at night it was a haven for miscreants and vagabonds. From what he knew about the girl she seemed level headed enough. He couldn't figure why she'd go there at night, much less alone, even if it were to meet someone. From the deep frown etched on Inuyasha's face it seemed like he couldn't understand it either.

"You think she went to Shiba Park?"

Inuyasha nodded slowly in answer to Kouga's question and attempted to quell the gut churning fear steadily growing in his stomach. _Fuck Kagome! Shiba Park at night? What the hell were you thinking? _

He hadn't been able to piece it together at first – the missing entry in her day timer and the impression of the note left behind – but now that he'd taken the time to browse through her computer files the pieces were slowly starting to fit together. The vision they created in his mind's eye sent chills running down his spine.

The web pages she'd been browsing were a collection of articles about Kikyo, the Akita case and news bulletins on yakuza members who'd recently been convicted for low grade offences like money laundering and extortion. They were the kind of scum who would roll over on their own mother if given enough incentive – exactly the kind of low life's a reporter would go to if they were trying to scope out details on a case. He pointed this out to Kouga who nodded his head with a grimace.

"You think she went to one of them?" he asked hesitantly in an effort to play catch up to Inuyasha who already seemed to be miles ahead.

"More like one of them came to her."

Kouga's eyebrows rose again at that and he stared down at Inuyasha incredulously. The serious expression on his face offered no hint that he was joking. "You think? How do you figure?"

"Well these news bulletins, they're all low level yakuza scum that were recently tossed in the clink," Inuyasha explained patiently and ran his finger along the bottom of the computer screen to illustrate which ones he was talking about.

"If she contacted any of these guys about the Akita case word would've gotten back to the rest of the clan. If they already had a hit out on her because of me it would've been easy pickings to call her up with a fake tip to lure her out."

"Well how do you know she was looking at them for tips? I mean what if she was writing a piece on one of 'em?" Kouga offered and crossed his arms across his chest.

Inuyasha tapped a claw rhythmically against the desk as he thought the suggestion over and ultimately shook his head to the negative.

"No, I don't think so. If that were the case she'd have notes about their trial or something like that, hell, knowing her she'd probably have the piece started already, but there's nothing like that on here." He motioned with a dismissive gesture to the laptop and then pointed his finger at a spiral bound book sitting off to the side.

"That thing there has all these guys' names, the dates they were incarcerated and what they're in for. If she was writing a piece on them why does she have so many in there? And why just write down info on what they're in for and the dates they were locked up? If she was writing a piece on them there'd be more background detail about the trial or the crime but there's nothing like that."

"So you think she was scoping out sources?" Kouga whistled long and low and sat back against the edge of her desk. "Shit… What was she thinking?"

_I know exactly what she was thinking,_ Inuyasha remarked to himself with a quiet shiver of dread, _she was thinking she'd break the Akita case before I did. You stupid, stupid woman. You didn't have to do this! Are you trying to get yourself killed?_ The frustration coursed rampant through his veins and his fist clenched tight atop her desk.

"So what makes you think one of them came to her?" Kouga's interjection interrupted his thoughts and he cast a quick glance in his direction.

"Call it a hunch I guess. She always takes this thing with her," he motioned to the laptop, "but she just left it here like she was planning on coming back for it soon. An entry was torn out of her day planner too, the one with the note about Shiba Park on it, which is the kind of thing you do when you're in a rush to meet someone.

"I'm thinking word got back to the yakuza that she was sniffing out info on the Akita case and one of 'em called her up with a fake tip – told her to meet them at Shiba Park at 11:45 for it. She went and they took her from there."

Kouga stared unseeingly at the floor as he contemplated Inuyasha's scenario. It certainly seemed plausible. He hadn't a clue how they were supposed to find out where she'd gone from there, but Shiba Park was a start anyway. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the mutt and felt something akin to pride. He'd really come back true to form.

Pushing himself off the desk he brushed some imaginary dust from his pant leg and stared expectantly at Inuyasha. "So Shiba Park then?"

The mutt stood slowly, surveying her desk one last time before he reluctantly nodded his head. "Yeah… Someone had to of see something."

"Alright. Shiba Park it is," Kouga announced with a sense of finality and after shutting down Kagome's computer they made their way towards the exit.

Stopping suddenly at the trash bin next to the door, Inuyasha removed a stack of folded blank letterhead from inside his coat and deposited it into the waste bin. Seeing Kouga's curious look he waved him off.

"Just had to get rid of the 'warrant'," he explained with a hint of a smile.

Nodding with understanding, Kouga stepped out into the hall and felt a grin split his face. Make no mistake about it, the old Inuyasha was definitely making a come back.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ I realize it's been a while since I've updated. I'm so sorry guys! I was listening to a lot of Sigur Ros when I wrote this, especially the first bit - I'd recommend giving either "Hoppipolla" or "Milano" a spin.

From the unexpected good news category… I just found out today that LSR has been nominated in this quarter's IYFG awards for "Best Alternate Universe." My exact reaction was "Holy Fcking Sht!" Needless to say it made my day and probably my week :) In honour of her thoughtfulness, this chapter is dedicated to 'madmiko' and everyone else who has continued to support me with their reviews and recommendations.

Sincerely, and from the bottom of my heart - thank you all so very very much!

Until next time…

Langus


	17. Been A While

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 17

- Been A While -

It was a typical scene for a Thursday night at Club Fuzen. Middle aged, upper middle class office managers were jockeying one another for prime spots around the overcrowded Roulette tables. Eagerly calling out their bids, they watched the wheels spin, crimson and black entwining, as their greedy eyes and empty wallets waited impatiently for the next big win. Their hopeful hearts rose high in their chests until it stuck in their throats. When the wheel shuddered to a stop they would cheer riotously and slap one another on the back in congratulations, as though they'd just completed a triathalon instead of got lucky at billiards.

This was the kind of place where Lady Luck was your precious maiden or an elusive, cheating whore who doled her favours out freely to every man but you. Some of the men flirted with her regularly, reaping the benefits of her kind affections. Others saw her only occasionally, others not at all. Generally the latter sort were the poor sorry bastards sitting in a far corner, mulling over a Scotch Brandy and trying to figure out how to tell their wives they were broke and had lost the family savings to a bad round of cards.

Somewhat removed from the frenzy of the tables was a well-dressed figure reclining casually against the bar. His Armani suit was dark, pitch black like the night, and his golden eyes were sharp and calculating as they swept the room. There was a certain air of importance that hung about him, or perhaps it was just conceit, but either way he seemed imposing standing there with a whiskey in one hand and a grim smile on his lips. He appeared to have an ear half-tuned to the balding, rotund little man sitting to his right. The regulars knew him as the manager of the establishment but he rarely showed himself around the club, preferring to stick to the back rooms where he could hide away from the noise and the heavy scent of alcohol, imported leaf tobacco and money that hung in the air.

He spoke rather quickly to the man at the bar in fervent hushed tones, most likely talking shop. Every so often he'd remove a well worn handkerchief from his pocket and dab it along his upper lip with a trembling hand. Considering this was a weekly ritual for the pair, his blatant nervousness didn't appear to lessen with the frequency of their visits. For his part, the man didn't appear to be particularly interested with what the manager had to say. He lifted his glass lazily to his mouth, took a sip and nodded to the man in a dismissive gesture before swallowing. He'd heard enough - business was booming and the cops were staying away - the rest of it was inconsequential. The manager departed with a shaky bow and slipped off to a back room out of sight.

Finally alone, he drew in a deep, appreciative breath and savoured the mingled scents of greed, hope and defeat that lingered in his lungs. _This_ was what he came for. He found nothing quite as satisfying as watching from afar while hope was born and crushed in the same moment, or a dream built up from nothing then dashed to pieces. It was exhilarating and pathetic at the same time.

What fools they were, all of them, so driven by greed that they couldn't see past their wallets. He'd built an empire simply by exploiting the inadequacies and addictions of others. They came to him seeking escape from their mundane lives for just a few hours and he provided them with it. While they were in his club they were allowed to believe that the impossible was truly possible, that with just one lucky hand or one good spin they could walk out those doors a changed man, somehow better than they were when they entered.

It never happened of course, but they allowed themselves to believe it could and he wasn't one to dissuade them. In this world he was their god - elusive, omnipotent, omniscient and wealthy. They looked up to him, silently worshipped him as they feared him, and understood their place beneath him. There were few who tried to shake the harmony created by such an understanding. There was a mutual recognition of the hierarchies of station and class that existed in this a place, but every so often there was one who dared to broach the invisible boundary between he and them.

His eyes narrowed on one figure in particular. He sized her up with a calculating glare while taking a long, slow sip from his drink. She was beautiful and seductive, a temptress in every sense of the word. Her glossy black hair swept in loose curls over her left shoulder to tickle at the milky skin of her breast, ebony against snow white. Eyes and lips, both the colour of rubies, glistened in the dim lights and her mouth stretched into a smirk when she noticed his gaze lingering on her. After a few sly glances at him from beneath her lashes she excused herself from the gentleman to her left, who was too enthralled with his game of poker to give her more than a fleeting nod of dismissal, and made her way towards him with her cocktail cradled between her fingers.

Taking up residence on the chair to his left, she slipped one leg over the other and appraised him with a sultry glance. She was the kind of beauty most men in this type of establishment would pay upwards of a million yen to have on their arm for just one night. There was no denying her appeal, but he was not a man of mediocre calibre and she was well below his league.

Her lips lifted into a humourless smile and her eyes panned down his well trimmed designer suit - sizing him up by dollar value rather than physical appeal. It was the kind of smile that could kill a man a million times over were he weak willed enough to give in to its subtle temptation. It was the kind of smile she'd spent a lifetime perfecting and had no qualms using to get what she wanted.

"Hey there. Care to buy a gal a drink?" The sultry lilt of her tone matched the half-lidded bedroom gaze she sent his way and he inwardly sneered at her forwardness. It was pathetic really that she thought she had any chance at all, though that wouldn't stop him from toying with her. It'd been a boring night.

"Can't say that I care to, no." He shot a pointed look at the half-full glass in her hand before dismissing her with a turn of his head. She seemed to take the blatant rejection in stride. After a well timed sip from her martini she laughed lightly as though she knew he'd been joking all along.

"Come now, you hardly look like a pauper," she scoffed light-heartedly.

Slipping a curl between her fingers, she toyed with it a minute while she analyzed his cold expression and hard gaze. She seemed to be weighing her options, judging the odds like any seasoned gambler would. After some consideration she slid off her chair, set her drink on the bar and moved her body between his legs. While one manicured hand ran up his chest, she slipped the fingers of the other inside the soft wool lapel of his blazer. Her eyes promised all things suggestive when they stared hungrily up at him but he rebuffed her easily once more, turning away to take a sip of his drink.

Scoffing lightly at the slight, she rose onto her tip toes and pressed her mouth to his ear. "I promise I'll make it worth your while," she practically purred before taking his earlobe between her teeth.

"If I wanted a whore I would buy one," was his sharp reply.

After disentangling her fingers from his jacket, he slipped easily out of her grasp and stood up from his seat. He'd expected a better performance from her, something to keep his interest at least, but she'd put on a mediocre performance and turned out to be a complete disappointment. He'd never been one for mediocrity. Downing the last of his drink in one gulp, he slid the empty glass towards the bartender with a nod and casually made his way towards the exit. Like a well trained pet she followed him. She had a job to do after all - her employer had made sure of that when he'd hired her.

The stairwell leading down to the street was quiet and deserted. The rush of activity from inside was barely a murmur on the far side of the sound proofed door. He took a moment to straighten his jacket and adjust his tie before descending the stairs. The burly, tattooed guard he'd hired to guard the door offered him a respectful nod which he returned with a disinterested, fleeting glance. The sound of her heels clicking loudly against the concrete steps reached his ears just as he pushed the door to the street open. She'd seemed to be timing herself carefully so as not to appear too hasty or desperate; not such an amateur then.

Slipping into the alley that cut between his building and the unassuming Portuguese bakery that sat next to it, he fished a cigarette from inside his jacket and waited. It wouldn't be long now. He could already hear her heels on the sidewalk, their sure, steady rhythm heading in his direction. As if on cue she slipped into the alley behind him not a moment later, a crimson shawl wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the winter's sharp wind.

"You're not like the other men in there," she observed and he cast a look of disdain in her direction. Sucking in a deep pull from his cigarette at his lips, he let the smoke linger in his lungs before exhaling slowly in her direction.

"What do you want?" He was quickly growing tired of her game. He much preferred when those beneath him cut to the chase. That way they took up as little of his time as possible.

Taking that her cue, she sidled up to him with lust and a certain hunger gleaming in her eyes. "Do you even have to ask?"

Her voice was husky from the haze of smoke that hung on the air inside the club and it shivered over him, caressing the animalistic parts of his psyche that wondered what was so wrong with wanting to bend her over and take her like a whore in the alley? Her fingers wrapped around the lapels of his jacket once more, stroking them slowly before she slipped her hands inside the warm space between his blazer and dress shirt to explore the taut body underneath.

Impatient and annoyed that she had the audacity to touch him at all, he watched her with a callous expression. After pulling in one last drag, he flicked the half-burned cigarette in his hand to the ground. He didn't give her any sort of warning before he fisted her dark hair in one hand, wrapped the other around her waist and forced her back against the brick wall of the club. Her surprised gasp at the unexpected jolt melted into one of satisfaction as he eased her head to the left and ran his lips along her exposed neck in a feather light caress.

Taking the rare opportunity to indulge his baser instincts, he breathed in her scent. The sweet, erotic smell of lust that clung to her skin made his head spin and for a brief moment he closed his eyes and let it envelop his senses and wash over him. For just a moment he pretended that she was another and they were somewhere far from the dank alleyway next to his club. It was a fleeting vision, one that ended abruptly when her hands boldly moved from caressing the taut planes of his chest and stomach to stroking the hard bulge that'd formed against his thigh.

"Come now Sesshomaru, even you must like to have a little fun every once in a while..."

Her sultry words were whispered hot and desperate against the shell of his ear. He opened his eyes and reality flooded back, jerking him quickly to his senses. He growled dangerously at her touch, a warning which she failed to heed. Frustrated with himself for indulging in her at all, he wrapped a hand around her throat in a vice grip and delighted in the half whimper, half gasp that he was able to extract. Her eyes grew wide with confusion and real fear. That blessed seductive emotion that quenched his thirst like no other. She was right to fear him.

Pulling her face close to his, he fixed her with a hard, uncompromising look that promised death and every measure of pain. "If I see you spying in my club again I'll tear out your throat."

Threat levelled, he dropped her to the ground and casually strode to the edge of the alley. Behind him she dropped to all fours in the filth, coughing and hacking as the oxygen rushed back into her lungs. As an afterthought he turned towards her, with a dark smile lighting his lips.

"Kagura, you should know by now that I don't associate with trash. Pass the message along to your boss. He'd be wise not to test me."

Ignoring the vile curse she levelled at his back, he abandoned her to the dark cesspit of the alley and her own devices. He didn't have the time or the patience to play such childish games with the likes of her. In his world there were those who were kings, and those who thought they were kings. The latter were nothing more than mongrels who only knew how to bay loudly at the moon. The confident cantor of his heels against the sidewalk resonated loudly down the deserted street. Here he was king and those foolish enough to cross him discovered what it was like to be crushed beneath his oppressive hand.

xXx

A heavy sort of mugginess had descended over the warehouse, the kind that made it difficult to breathe and hard to keep a clear head. The pair sitting calmly across from one another made every effort to ignore its damp weight settling into their clothes and the thickness of the air in their lungs. Despite the fact that one of them had her feet tied to a chair and looked more than a little worse for the wear, they carried on as though it were a normal thing to have casual conversations in abandoned warehouses owned by the yakuza.

It was a rather odd scene indeed, anyone looking in on it would have thought so, and yet it didn't seem to faze them. Perhaps it had at one point, but not any longer. The threat of boredom was too real and there wasn't much else to pass the time besides keeping one another company. So they sat in their wobbly metal folding chairs, sucked back a few beers, and carried on a normal conversation as though it was the first weekend of summer and they'd just met at a neighbour's backyard BBQ.

Kesuke took a gratifying sip of his beer and sighed contentedly. Tipping the bottle towards her he nodded his head and lifted an eyebrow.

"So you a sports fan?"

Kagome swallowed a mouthful of the mercifully cold beer he'd given her a few moments earlier and set it down on her lap. Her fingers thrummed against the cool glass as she thought over his question.

"You mean as in baseball, sumo wrestling, kendo, what?"

He made a face and waved a hand back and forth. "All that stuff. You follow any of it?"

She smiled and eased her back against the chair. Her body still hurt like a bitch, especially her shoulder, but the beer in her empty stomach made her head feel light and dulled the pain somewhat. She could've been worse off, much worse off in fact. Her previously anti-social bodyguard seemed to have made a turn around. He wasn't such a bad guy really. Now that she'd had the chance to talk to him a bit she was willing to concede that, despite their situation, he was a pretty decent fellow. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well being and her situation. He'd even made an effort to keep their conversation light and pleasantly distracting so her thoughts didn't have time to linger on the inevitable conclusion of her captivity.

Giving him a sly look, she posed a question of her own. "Would you believe me if I said I was an avid baseball fan?"

Looking intrigued, he lifted an eyebrow and she raised her good shoulder in a half shrug.

"I've been a die hard Brooklyn Dodgers fan since I was nine."

"The Dodgers?" he asked with a bit of a furrowed brow.

She laughed lightly, wincing slightly at the lingering pain that throbbed through her rib cage courtesy of two broken ribs. "You thought I was going to say the Yankees or Boston didn't you?" she teased with a genuine smile on her face. He shrugged indifferently but she took it at her cue to explain.

"My dad got me into the Dodgers. He was a huge Jackie Robinson fan. He used to say 'that man did more to break colour boundaries in the States than all the rallies and protests combined.' I never really knew much about it before that, the whole segregation thing, but it seemed to me like he did a good thing."

"I'd like to think I'm like him in some ways," she reflected. "I didn't just become a journalist because it's what I love to do. I wanted to prove that it could be done - that a woman could reach the top in this field by skill and hard work alone."

"Is it working?"

"I'm one of Asahi Shimbun's top journalists and I've only been there two years," she offered. He made a curious expression - halfway between an impressed brow lift and a disinterested frown.

"So your Dad still follow the Dodgers?"

"No. My Dad's dead."

"Sorry to hear that," he apologized offhandedly. The response was as automatic as it sounded. For someone whose business was death by various measures it was something that no longer fazed him, a fact she was well aware of.

"Don't be," she mused with a shake of her head. "He died when I was nine. So what about you?," she asked, eager to change the subject to something light-hearted again. "Baseball fan?"

Her tone sounded a bit too chipper to his ears and he picked up on her discomfort almost instantly. It was getting easier to read her now, especially now that the alcohol was loosening her tongue and lowering her inhibitions. So family was a taboo topic, no problems there. He wasn't the type to pry anyway.

Eager to get back to baseball, he smirked and crossed his arms casually in front of his chest. "Yeah, but none of that Yankee garbage. I'm a true blue Giants fan."

"No shame in that," she conceded. "The Giants are a great team. You ever been to a game?"

"Tickets cost an arm and a leg," he replied as though that should've been answer enough.

"Let's say you and I make a deal - you let me go free and I'll get you Giants tickets with a free pass to meet the team."

He sent a questioning look in her direction. "And how you gonna swing that exactly?"

"I did say I was one of the top journalists at the Asahi Shimbun didn't I? If I want to meet the players to write a sports piece, I get to meet the players. All it takes is a phone call."

Smiling he shook his head and set his beer on the floor. "You're somethin' else I'll give ya that. Still tryin' to wheel an' deal your way out of here. I think you've tried every angle in the book at this point."

She waved off his insinuation with a casual flip of her hand. "So what'll it be?"

He shook his head again, this time in disbelief and swiped a heavy hand over his sweaty face. "As tempting as the offer is I gotta decline. Those passes won't do me any good if I'm dead."

"Well I guess if you wanna see a game you'll just have to stay alive long enough for me to hold up my end of the bargain," she quipped, unwilling to give up so easily. He responded with a short chuckle and she frowned in defeat. That time she was almost sure she had him. Freedom felt so close she could practically taste it, but his stubbornness was keeping it just beyond her reach.

It was hard to hold back an exasperated groan when he glanced away, signalling the end of their discussion. She filled the moments of silence that stretched between them by pondering various escape strategies. There many not have been many options left, but that didn't mean she was giving up. Kagome Higurashi was a survivor. Besides that, it'd be dishonourable to the Higurashi name if she let them take her down without putting up a good fight.

Lost in thought, she was surprised when he addressed her suddenly a few moments later. His voice sounded heavy, as though his conscience was being burdened by some oppressive weight. "Hey Princess, when alls said and done I just want you to know that it's nothin' personal alright?"

She lifted her eyes to catch his troubled expression and offered him a complacent smile. "Yeah, I know. I won't come back to haunt you from the grave or anything like that," she joked half-heartedly but her smile faded rather fast when she realized that he was apologizing pre-emptively for having to kill her.

It was a sobering thought, one that had her stomach churning and her head reeling in dizzying circles. If he was already trying to clear his conscience did that mean that her death was inevitable? Since she still hadn't a clue why she'd been taken in the first place, the option had always remained open in her mind that somehow she'd find a way to talk herself out of this mess. There was also the fleeting hope that someone would arrive in the nick of time to rescue her lingering around, but as each day bled into the next that option steadily became less and less viable in her mind.

Her hands gripped the beer bottle in her lap tight to hide the fact that they were trembling and she met his gaze head on. His brow furrowed and drew low over his dark eyes. He studied her intently, his mouth hanging open as though he wanted to say something more. With a shake of his head he apparently decided against it and turned away. Thankful for the brief respite, she let out a defeated sigh and took a long sip from her beer to finish it off. She set it shakily on the ground beside her and slowly righted herself, mindful of her injuries.

"You know, all we gotta do is order a pizza and it'll be just like we're in college," she observed with a pointed glance around the room.

"This place reminds you of college?" he retorted with a snort.

Her dark eyes travelled over their surroundings, from the algae coated floor boards to the rickety balcony that jutted out from a darkened doorway on the second floor and couldn't help but feel somewhat nostalgic. In truth, college living hadn't been quite so off the map, but it hadn't exactly been luxurious either. Still reminiscing about the 'good ole days', she laughed lightly.

"Well I suppose college was a touch better but-,"

Her sentence abruptly dropped short and all hint of her beer-induced easy going mood instantly evaporated. With a deliberate blink she narrowed her eyes at the inky shadows behind the doorway on the second floor.

_There's no way. My imagination was just running away with me_, she reasoned, but logical thinking did little to quell the paranoia that was churning the beer uncomfortably in her stomach.

Confused by her sudden change in demeanour, Kesuke cast a curious glance over his shoulder but saw nothing worth taking note of. He looked back at her just in time to catch her shaking her head as if rousing herself from a waking dream.

"Sorry... What was I saying?" she asked with a sheepish smile.

She attempted to act nonchalant about the whole thing, but knew from the expression on his face that she'd failed miserably. In spite of herself her eyes lifted nervously to the second floor balcony and she breathed a minor sigh of relief when she saw that it was deserted.

It'd been just a brief flash in her peripheral vision, but for a moment she'd seen something that had shaken her resolve to its core. A small voice inside her head whispered that it was impossible, that there was no way he could still be alive, but that didn't stop her hands from trembling or the tight feeling of panic from strangling her throat. A hesitant glance at Kesuke confirmed that he hadn't a clue what was going on. Maybe it had been in her head then? Surely he'd know if-

The sudden sharp sound of slow, successive claps drew their attention instantaneously to an inconspicuous corner of the room. From the depths of the shadows at the bottom of the rusted staircase leading down from the balcony emerged a figure wearing a well tailored suit and a dark smirk on his lips. His hands continued to clap as he advanced towards them, ceasing only when his feet stopped a few feet away from where they sat. With mock empathy he looked from Kesuke to Kagome and put a hand over his heart before emitting a pained sigh.

"That was truly beautiful. I never knew you had it in your Yaguro. The whole 'it's nothing personal' bit almost made me want to shed a tear."

His expression darkened into something foul and terrifying and before either of them could react he'd struck Kesuke hard across the face with the blunt end of a gun, scattering him out of his chair. He hit the floor with a heavy 'thud' and the man tsked with disapproval while shaking his head.

"Such disrespect," he mused with a dark smile.

Kesuke's body came alive almost instantaneously. In a frantic rush of limbs he was standing upright bowing low before their new visitor. "Takeda-san, forgive me. I didn't know you were coming." His words sounded hurried and breathy, so unlike the slow talking, lazy man from before. With a discreet gesture he wiped the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand and waited expectantly for orders.

The man he'd addressed formally as 'Takeda-san' regarded him with a disapproving frown but ultimately decided to forgo further punishment. He gestured with his gun for him to rise and when he did so, he motioned towards the door. "Your services are no longer needed."

Kesuke hazarded a glance at the girl who hadn't moved a muscle since Takeda-san revealed himself. Somehow it didn't feel right leaving her behind, but with the Boss's gun half-cocked and his temper already stormy he knew he wouldn't be forgiven another act of insubordination. Fists clenched at his sides, he silently repeated the mantra that kept him moving forward in situations like these - _Think of Masari and Yuriko. You're doing this for them. Think of what will happen to them if you don't play along. _

Despite those convincing words he couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself and guilt-ridden as he turned away from the girl's terror-filled expression and headed towards the door. Each footstep he took away from her resonated loudly in his ears. Freedom for him was just beyond the door, yet somehow he felt as though he was walking the last green mile. For days he'd been griping and moaning about wanting to leave, but now that the opportunity finally presented itself he found each step harder and harder to take.

What would happen to the girl once he was on the other side of that door? He didn't want to think about it, knowing all too well what the Boss was capable of. He couldn't brush aside the feeling that ate away at his chest, the one that made it feel like he was betraying her somehow. With a hand firmly gripping the cool metal handle of the door, he jerked it open and felt the first blast of the icy winter air against his skin.

He realized then that his vision of leaving had somehow always included her leaving with him. This ending didn't feel right. It was wrong, so very, very wrong but there wasn't anything he could do to change it. With a heavy heart and a head that hung low in shame, he slowly slid the door shut behind him and closed his eyes against the sound of the lock sliding into place.

She was strong, that much he knew, she might just survive, but he couldn't ignore the voice inside his head that told him he'd just sealed her fate.

xXx

On the other side of the large metal door, Kagome pulled in a slow, shuddering breath. She closed her eyes deliberately and said a silent prayer before opening them again, hoping that what she was seeing was just another vivid nightmare.

_It's not possible... It's NOT possible..._

Logic and reason both informed her that everything about this scene was impossible. The man standing before her couldn't be standing before her because he was dead and had been for nearly five years.

_I buried you, _she swore fiercely. _You're not real! _

Unfortunately those heartfelt assertions did little to quell the panic that tore through her when she opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her. Horror struck, she watching silently as he opened one side of his jacket and easily slipped his gun into its holster. Without taking his eyes off of her, he picked up Kesuke's disregarded chair and set it between them facing away from her.

"It's been a long time Kagome," he began in a patient tone before straddling the chair so they were eye to eye. "How've you been holding up?"

With a casual air about him, he crossed his arms over the backrest and leaned forward to study her trembling form inquisitively. Her mouth moved and her throat swallowed as though she was trying to speak but no sound emerged. Tsking softly, he extended a finger and ran it along one of the bruises that coloured the pale skin of her cheek an angry shade of purple. She flinched instantly at the touch of his skin against hers and one side of his mouth curved upwards in a dark smile.

"You've been better I guess," he observed with a hint of a sneer and sat back to let his eyes sweep over her battered body. Bringing his finger to his lips, he absently licked her sweat from its tip, savouring the taste of victory on his tongue. With a subtle shake of his head he frowned at her injuries in mock sympathy.

"That Kagura... She just doesn't know where to draw the line sometimes."

Her wide dark eyes followed his every move as he leaned forward to rest his chin atop his forearms. He returned her gaze with cold, empty eyes that gave away nothing of his thoughts. Even when he smiled, dark and sinister though it was, the expression never reached high enough to penetrate those emotionless orbs.

At one time she'd found those eyes interesting, mysterious even, but there was none of that ignorance left to blind her now. His eyes looked dead in their sockets; they were dull and lacked emotion because he possessed none. For a sadist like him words such as mercy and hope meant nothing, while feelings like compassion and empathy were foreign and strange. She swallowed down the bile that'd risen into the back of her throat and with it the scream that wanted to tear out of her lungs. Screaming wouldn't help her now, neither would tearful pleas, prayers or begging for mercy. She'd tried all of that before...

When he spoke the sound of his voice echoed in the back of her mind, stirring to life the memories and fears she'd worked so hard to suppress. He held a certain power over her, one she'd never understood. Even now, despite all the years that'd passed and the time she'd spent making herself stronger, it was no less than it had been on that night five years ago. A sudden shiver of fear shuddered down her spine and he drew imperceptibly closer, relishing in her palpable terror. When he spoke, soft and tauntingly so that only she could hear, the long buried feelings that only he could evoke were ignited and she whimpered in spite of herself.

"Kagome-chan, you know how in scary movies the bad guy has a habit of saying 'it's nothing personal'?"

Her mouth fell open but remained silent but for the sound of her frantic breaths. Tears slipped down her cheeks and he watched their progression with rapt fascination. Then he smiled at her, looking utterly satisfied that he'd been able to wrench them from her so soon.

With slow, careful movements he leaned in and brushed his mouth against the shell of her ear. She couldn't stop the shudder of revulsion that ran through her at the touch of his lips on her skin and visibly winced when she heard his quiet snicker.

_This is what he wants. Stop giving him what he wants!_ her mind whispered fiercely.

Willpower alone wasn't enough anymore though. It couldn't stop the tears coursing down her cheeks or the tremors that shivered through her frame. It couldn't stop her gut from churning or her chest from closing in so tight with fear that she could hardly breathe. And it definitely couldn't stop the breath from noticeably hitching in her throat when his next words, whispered dark and foreboding against her ear, brought her world to a shuddering standstill.

"Baby, this is about as personal as it gets."

* * *

_Author's Note: _Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/recommended/voted for this fic. You guys are truly awesome :)

So a bit of a cliff hanger here (oh who am I kidding? This is a brutal cliff hanger!) but hopefully it gets you psyched up for the next few chapters. At least we have one big question answered - Kagome definitely knows who her abductor is. The question now is who exactly IS 'Takeda-san' and how is he tied to her and Inuyasha?

I'm also tickled pink to note that LSR has been nominated for Best AU and Best Inu/Kag Romance in the Inuyasha Fan Guild Awards (IYFG)! Voting is taking place now so remember to go vote for your favourite fics if you're a member ;)

Thanks again everyone for your support and I'll be back soon.

Until next time...

Langus


	18. Hedge Your Bets

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 18

- Hedge Your Bets -

Shiba Park was every bit as dark and unwelcoming as he'd expected it to be. In a couple of weeks it would be lit from end to end by large paper lanterns and its walkways lined with an eclectic compliment of food vendors. It wouldn't be long before the air was rich with the smell of sweet sake and cooking meat. In those last minutes before midnight crowds of eager spectators would huddle together near the temple, their wish balloons bobbing above their heads, and wait with barely contained excitement for the countdown they'd waited 364 days to take part in.

New Years celebrations at Shiba Park never failed to impress even the most stubborn members of the anti-holiday brigade, but with the year end still weeks away the park was nothing more than a barren desert amid the urban landscape. Above their heads the branches of the naked trees entwined, forming a gnarled archway so dense it nearly blocked out the moonlight.

For some reason the wind felt different here. It was sharp and bitter against his skin and far colder than it'd been on the street. Its touch sent a bone-deep shiver coursing through his body, one that he found hard to shake off. Of all the places she could've gone, this had to be one of the worst.

The imposing Zojoji temple and the quaint winding pathways made the park a popular tourist spot by day, but once night fell its dark corners were littered with a baser sort of being. It was the kind of place that attracted people looking for trouble and repelled those with even the barest shred of common sense after dark. He'd always considered Higurashi to be impressively sharp for a woman, but he couldn't help but question her motives given the situation they were in. Coming to this kind of place after dark in search of a lead… It wasn't just a bad judgement call – it was downright suicidal. In fact, he would've been shocked had something _not_ happened to her.

_Higurashi… Just what the hell were ya thinkin'?_

As they made their way across one of the arched wooden bridges he found his steps feeling heavy and sluggish. The longer he dwelt on it, the more his sympathy for her waned. After all, she'd brought it on herself hadn't she? Disregarding that thought as unnecessary and pointless, he kicked an errant branch off the path with the toe of his shoe and contemplated what he could see of the temple ahead.

There was lingering notion making the rounds in his mind that he couldn't seem to shake – the feeling that somehow it was all connected. Somewhere along the way there was a link they were missing, a lone piece that would somehow join the disjointed bits of their puzzle together. The mutt seemed convinced that it all centered on him. The way he saw it, Kagome was an innocent bystander that ended up being pulled into some kind of twisted vendetta game because of their relationship. Though he had yet to say as much aloud, Kouga wasn't so sure he bought that theory.

With nothing substantial to go on, he was stuck for the moment operating solely on his gut instinct and almost ten year's experience on the job. Both were telling him that the girl was involved. The task of figuring out exactly how rested on his shoulders and he was running short on time. Inuyasha wasn't exactly the type to sit back and strategize. Hell, when you got right down to it neither was he. They'd both end up charging in to save her like the damn cavalry and wind up killed. The only chance they had of succeeding was in figuring out that missing link. The phrase 'easier said than done' came to mind and he couldn't remember it ever feeling truer.

The park around them appeared empty, but he could feel a multitude of gazes following their every step. The crunch of their thick-soled shoes atop the frozen, snow dusted gravel resounded loudly into the night. They weren't making any effort to be quiet and they had no need to. Everyone knew exactly what they were the moment they'd stepped foot onto the path. It was just a matter of time before one of them came out of the shadows to assuage their curiosity.

As they slipped around another turn in the path, the pungent aroma of ripe, unwashed bodies assaulted them in a wave strong enough to make his stomach churn. No doubt about it, they were close. All around them the darkened landscape was littered with society's dregs and one of those unlucky bastards would be their winning ticket. His eyes settled on Inuyasha's back in-between scanning the trees for 'guests'. When the mutt's feet suddenly drew to a halt he paused as well and watched while he took inventory of their surroundings.

"You smell them too don't you," he remarked with a brief nod toward the cluster of tall bushes to their right.

Inuyasha scoffed and without missing a beat replied, "I've been holding my breath since we were three blocks out."

Smell them? Hell, when they were this close he could practically feel them. Their presence was like a colony of ants scurrying across his bare skin. He cast a bland look back over his shoulder at the empty pathway and adjusted his stance expectantly.

"Anyone wanna earn some easy money?" He called out with an expectant look at the landscape.

"We're just looking for information," Kouga added and pivoted in a slow half-circle to guard his back.

It didn't take long for the first one to emerge. From behind one of the large oak trees that grew next to the path, a woman emerged dressed in little more than an oversized band t-shirt, cinched at the hips with a low-slung, tacky, gold belt. Her face appeared gaunt and pale in the moonlight and she was far too thin to be healthy, but her dark eyes were sharp and calculating. They glanced from one cop to the other, not appearing the least bit intimidated.

"You sure ya don't wanna add a happy ending to that?" she drawled while appraising Kouga's fit physique with a prolonged glance. Perhaps trying to appear flirtatious, she combed her fingers through her blunt cut, shoulder-length wig and flipped a section of it back over her shoulder. It was a cheap hair piece from one of those bargain bin costume shops. The style looked as though it'd been inspired by Cleopatra, but she was a far cry from Elizabeth Taylor.

Torn between feeling flattered and disgusted that in a whore's eyes he was a better catch than the mutt, Kouga smirked and put a hand up to ward her off. "Sorry, no, but if you can help us out we'll make it worth your while."

"That's rich! I've never seen a cop who knew how to tip," she scoffed with a derisive look in Inuyasha's general direction.

Despite her crass words, she didn't seem bothered enough to leave. Breathing an impatient sigh, she brushed the thick fringe of polyester bangs off her forehead and began rummaging through the large purse slung haphazardly over her shoulder. After a moment of searching she pulled out a small carton of Marlboros and a lighter.

With practised ease, she pulled one of the cigarettes from the pack with her teeth and lit the tip. Her thin, pale lips sucked greedily at the other end and she exhaled with an exaggerated sigh. Satisfied for the moment, she crossed her arms to stave off the cold and regarded the pair of detectives evenly.

"So what kinda information you lookin' for anyway?"

"We're lookin' for someone, a girl," Kouga explained while groping around inside his jacket for the Polaroid. It wasn't the best photo they could've used, but it was the only one they had to work with. He still couldn't understand how the mutt had a woman that attractive on his arm and didn't carry a picture of her in his wallet. _If she were my woman I'd look at that thing every day,_ he could remember thinking at the time.

Grasping hold of the photo, he held it out to her face down. With a derisive snort the hooker took another long drag of her Marlboro and exhaled it in a string of perfect smoke rings.

"We got a lotta Daddy's girls 'round here. Is her Pa a good buddy or sumthin', ya know from back in the college days? Maybe one o' you's her pimp? Oooo… We get a lotta those too…," she teased, loudly sucking her teeth.

"Un-fucking believable…" Inuyasha muttered and turned away to keep from lashing out. With a wary glance in his direction, Kouga offered the picture once more with a shake. The woman's blank expression didn't seem overly promising, but she accepted the photo nonetheless. Her dark eyes scanned the scene without even batting an eyelash at the content.

"Pretty little thing isn't she? You sure he ain't her pimp?" she asked in all sincerity, her eyes firmly on Inuyasha's back. "Cause I know a lotta customers who'd be int'rested some 'un like her."

The speed at which Inuyasha spun around was almost comical. With his face twisted into a dark glower that would've had a grown man feeling nervous, he pinned the hooker with a look that promised pain. Kouga was all set to step in and diffuse the situation when she suddenly spoke up, catching them both by surprise.

"Yeah, I saw her," she admitted with a flippant shrug and offered the photo back to Kouga. He tucked it hastily into his jacket, eager to have the damn thing out of sight.

"Alright, I gave you what you wanted, now pay up!" Hands planted firmly on her hips, she glared the pair down as though she fully expected to be shafted.

"Not so fast. Where'd you see her? Was she with anyone?"

Inuyasha's questions came off sounding cool and measured, perfunctory even, but the taut line of his shoulders and the hard eagerness burning in his eyes told a different story.

The woman rolled her eyes and impatiently tapped her heeled foot on the frozen ground. Taking a drag of her cigarette, she muttered something derogatory about cops and their whores before answering with a shrug of her bony shoulders and a wave of her hand.

"I saw her by the temple talking to some yakuza types. I had a customer so I left and when I got back they were gone. Shame too cause unlike _some_ gents the yakuza know how to tip," she added with a meaningful look at them both.

"Do you know which clan they belonged to?" Inuyasha demanded with a sharp look.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, but whether it was from thinking over his question or using the toe of her heeled shoe to stamp out her cigarette was uncertain.

"One yakuza's the same as another as far as I'm concerned," was her tired sounding response. "Try asking some of the girls who hang out by the temple."

With a glint of greed shimmering in her eyes, she looked at Kouga expectantly and held out her hand. He looked up to find Inuyasha already making his way down the path toward the temple, leaving him behind to pay her off. _Typical_. After muttering a few choice curses under his breath, he reached into his jacket to retrieve his wallet.

"I've changed my mind," the hooker blurted out suddenly. He caught the hungry look in her eyes and followed her gaze to the front of his jacket. "A girl could sure use a thing like that to stay warm out here," she observed with a none-too-subtle lift of her eyebrow.

"Think again," he shot back. Scowling, he emptied his wallet of 25 000 yen and held it out to her. She looked around warily before snatching it from his grasp and shoving it into her bra.

"Twenty-five hundred as promised," he stated just loud enough for the other eavesdroppers to hear. It was impossible to miss the look of relief that washed over her face. No one would bother mugging her for a measly twenty-five hundred yen.

A sudden buzzing from inside his jacket had him reaching in once more, this time to retrieve his cell phone. A determined look crossed his features as he glanced at the name flashing across the call display. Their timing couldn't have been more perfect. Dismissing the hooker with an appreciative half-smile and a two-fingered salute, he flicked the phone open and pressed it to his ear.

"Talk fast."

He spoke quietly into the receiver as he followed the path to the temple, his voice barely audible above the crunch of gravel beneath his feet. From the other end of the line came a heavy sigh followed by a tentative, "Boss I hope you're sittin' down, cause you ain't gonna _believe_ this..."

xXx

_Damn._

He'd been able to put it off at first; shoved aside, ignored and rationalized it'd stayed quiet. The reprieve had given him precious time to think straight, strategize and do what he was best at – piece it all together. But whatever he'd been doing before to hold it at bay just didn't cut it anymore and he couldn't push it aside any longer.

He could feel it slowly creeping in, sneaky though it was. It churned his gut and made him feel sick to his stomach. He could still vividly recall dry heaving over his kitchen sink only days earlier. The way it welled up inside of him, he felt as though he were suffocating - trapped within a giant rubber band that stretched tight across his chest.

Despite the cold and the overpowering scent of unwashed bodies and the fact that his senses were going wild trying to take it all in, he could still _feel_ her. She'd walked down this path, taken these same steps. It didn't matter that it was days ago and her scent had long since been washed away – she felt nearly as close now as she had while sitting across from him at that over-priced coffee shop. She was _almost_ tangible and that was the problem.

Feeling her like that brought the panic rushing in. The closer he came to finding her, the greater the chance that she would slip through his fingers, like water through a sieve. That was the part that terrified him. Feeling the remnants of her presence all around made everything that'd happened since their last date at the coffee shop so painfully real. As much as he wished it weren't true, this was not a nightmare he could wake himself up from. Come morning, he wouldn't stir to life surrounded by the warm embrace of sheets laden with her scent unless he somehow managed to do the impossible.

That was why he moved toward the looming silhouette of the temple like a man on a mission. He didn't have time to dwell on the fact that what he was asking of himself was damn near impossible. He didn't have time to doubt or question what his instincts were telling him. The only thing he had time to do was press forward and so he did, with the panic riding his ass the whole way.

Determined to find the answers he sought, no matter what the cost, he jogged up the steps that led to the main floor of the temple and scanned the lightened interior of the structure. At night the monks kept candles burning to honour the souls of the dead. Vagrants usually drew toward the warm glow like moths to a burning flame. Perhaps on some level it was comforting, or maybe it was just warmer in there with all the candles around.

He could sense them inside - there were at least a half dozen or so milling about, but they were either too scared or apathetic to bother with him. Suppressing an impatient growl, he stormed through the open entryway and pointed auspiciously at the first person he happened across.

"Hey you," he barked authoritatively, "you see a girl hanging around here about four nights ago? Talking with some yakuza types?"

The homeless man, wrapped in several layers of hand me down clothes, shrugged deeper into the dirty patchwork quilt he was using as a blanket and pretended not to hear. Inuyasha sneered at the man, disgusted with his choice to remain silent when Kagome's life was on the line. Un-thwarted, he quickly moved on to his next target.

Catching sight of a young girl sitting off to one side by herself, he took a step in her direction and stared at her until she reluctantly made eye contact. "Hey, you see a girl here four nights ago?" he inquired, his tone a hair less harsh than before.

"She was abducted. There would've been a scene," he explained while his eyes scanned her features for some sign of comprehension. The girl's eyes widened with recognition but she quickly diverted her gaze to the floor and anxiously picked at the worn edges of her sneakers with dirtied fingertips.

Frustrated to his last nerve, Inuyasha could feel himself losing composure. A few more witnesses playing dumb was all the incentive he'd need before he resorted to less appropriate methods. Once it reached that point, he wouldn't be held accountable for where his fists landed. Had he been there for any other reason but to find Kagome he would've accepted the code of silence that such groups operated on as just another inconvenience, but this was different. Their silence was keeping him from her and he'd beat the information out of every one of them with his bare hands if he had to. Whatever it took to find her…

Reluctantly turning away from the girl, he decided to go for broke and address the room at large. "Look, my partner's got a wallet full of cash and I need info. If any of you know somethin' about what took place here four nights ago now's your chance to speak up!"

The room grew pin drop silent almost instantaneously. With arms open wide to show that he was unarmed, Inuyasha turned in a small circle and tried to catch the eye of those closest to him. He waited a solid ten seconds before prodding a little more. "No one wants to earn a few hundred thousand yen? It'll be the easiest money you'll make all year," he goaded. They may have been scared but money was a very good motivator. Almost any coat could be turned for the right price.

"You a cop?" A harsh voice barked from somewhere in the back left corner. It was too dark too tell whether it'd been a man or woman who spoke.

"Yeah, a detective," he replied with a guarded expression. He swallowed nervously and tried to ignore the trickle of cold sweat snaking down the back of his neck. He wasn't exactly on safe ground. It only took one wrong move or one misplaced word on his part before he found himself in a world of trouble.

A quiet murmur travelled through the room, spreading like wildfire from one side to the other. Feeling as though they might need a bit more encouragement, he held his hands up and played the 'I'm gonna level with you so you sympathize with my situation and help me out' card.

"Look, that girl – she's a good friend of mine. Bein' a cop, it's not like I've got many of 'em hangin' around..."

A twitter of amusement and a few understanding nods were directed his way. Feeling somewhat reassured, he took a deep breath and pressed on.

"I just wanna bring her home. You don't gotta make a statement or nothin' official like that. Anythin' you tell me is strictly off the record. All I wanna know is who took her and you get some easy money. Sounds fair right?"

Another quiet murmur, this one sounding a touch more positive than the last, made its way round the room. It only took a few seconds before a figure stepped away from the far wall and made their way towards him. It was a girl, young by the looks of it – no more than seventeen or eighteen. Even though she was scantily clad in a mini skirt, knee-high boots and a short jacket that'd seen better days, she was undeniably attractive. The fashionable way she'd bleached her shoulder length hair to a brassy brown and the layers of eye makeup she used to hide the shred of innocence that still lingered in her wide, dark eyes suggested that she hadn't been on the streets long. She was a far cry from the seasoned pro they'd run into along the path, that was for damn sure.

She looked warily about the room before separating herself from them even further and shuffling a few steps forward. With her arms crossed tight across her chest, perhaps to stifle her nerves or keep out the cold, she stood in front of him just out of arm's reach. He offered her a quick, appreciative nod and she hastily glanced away, too timid to meet the fiery determination in his eyes.

"I saw your friend," she began softly. "I wanted to help but…," she explained and finished with a small lift of her shoulders.

"Did you see who took her?"

The girl chewed at her bottom lip and moved a step closer. She seemed nervous, like she didn't want the others to overhear even though it was obvious that the entire room was riveted to their conversation. Reluctantly, she nodded her head and pulled in a quick breath to steel her resolve.

"Yeah, I saw. One of 'em… He's one of my regulars."

For a moment his lungs refused to draw breath. He kept telling himself not to let his hopes rise too high, not to get ahead of himself, but it was hard to control the excitement. Hesitant to move but knowing it was safer for them both if they were away from prying eyes and ears, he motioned toward the entrance.

Once they were outside, the girl seemed to visibly relax. She leaned back against the wall of the temple and crossed her feet in front of her at the ankles. He felt anything but. Every part of him was charged and primed, ready to move at a moment's notice. Just the wait to hear the rest of her story was practically killing him. In an effort to calm himself down, he joined her against the wall and rubbed a heavy hand across the stubble growing along his jaw.

"If I tell you his name you gotta give me your word you won't haul him in," she bartered, giving him a serious look. "He's a good customer. He treats me decent and pays well. Business isn't exactly booming this time of year ya know. I can't afford to lose any of my regulars."

Inuyasha nodded and followed her gaze to the tree line. He understood where she was coming from and he had to commend her for being smart enough to know how it all worked. Once she gave a name it'd be hard for him not to bring the guy in. The decent man in him wanted the bastard's name so he could lock the guy away purely on principle for the part he played in helping someone so young destroy her life. Realizing that that kind of philosophy would get him nowhere with the girl fast, he decided on a compromise.

"Here's the deal… I don't give a rat's ass about your friend. I don't care who he is, I just wanna know who he works for. If you can tell me that we both go home happy."

Stunned, the girl blinked slowly at him in the dim light. The last part of her that was still innocent made her easy to read. He knew every one of her thoughts just as clearly as if she'd spoken them aloud. Part of her wanted to trust him. She felt sorry for him and he could tell from her posture alone that she felt guilty for not helping Kagome when she'd had the chance.

However, the part of her that'd spent the past few months on the streets sang a different tune. Because he was a cop, in her world he was the enemy. That part of her brain was telling her to put as much distance between them as possible if she wanted to escape unscathed. Just being there and talking with him out in the open left them both straddling dangerous ground. Whatever her reservations, it was her conscience that won out in the end.

"Alright," she conceded, and her shoulders visibly sagged when she blew out the breath she'd been holding in. "He's never said who he works for. He just refers to him as "the Boss". "The Boss" this and "The Boss" that; on his cell about it all the time. Sounds like a heck of a guy."

Her sarcasm was particularly thick for that last remark and he had to push down the urge to shake her while ordering her get to the fucking point already. She seemed to pick up on his urgency though, and with a perceptive glance in his direction pushed onward.

"During the summer I saw his tats when he wore sleeveless shirts to the park. He belongs to Inagawa-kai, I'm almost positive."

"How do you know?" He pushed away from the temple wall, hardly able to stand being still any longer.

"Because they all have the same mark, a spider – right here," she explained and reached a hand over her shoulder to tap a spot above her left shoulder blade.

He watched the small movements of her hand and nodded as though he were paying attention, but his mind was already a thousand steps ahead. Inagawa-kai was one of the most powerful yakuza clans in Tokyo, second only to the Sumiyoshi-kai! The one glimmer of hope he had left in all of this was that he now knew exactly where to find her.

It was pretty much common knowledge within the yakuza syndicate that a significant portion of the store houses located near the fish market were owned by Inagawa-kai and their subsidiaries. The cavernous structures made smuggling convenient, and when they weren't being used to hold a shipment they doubled as an excellent place to torture informants or get rid of bodies.

The implication behind that thought made him swallow hard and he studied the girl out of the corner of his eye. The way she was chewing at her bottom lip like it was going out of style spoke of her nervousness. She was already regretting having said anything at all - that much seemed blatantly obvious.

Feeling as though he needed to reassure her somehow, he laid a heavy hand against her shoulder and waited until her gaze lifted far enough to meet his.

"Inagawa-kai…shit. You're sure?"

She nodded and he glanced uneasily over his shoulder at the temple. All he wanted to do was be gone, girl be damned, but he didn't trust her enough to leave her alone. The last thing he needed was for her to call her 'regular' in a fit of guilt. Walking blindly into a trap was not on his list of things to do, now or ever.

Taking the girl by the arm, he guided her down the steps and pushed her toward the trees. She looked back at him surprised, but he dismissed her confusion with a shake of his head.

"My partner – he's just up the path. He's got money to pay you for the tip," he explained and pointed his finger at the spot where the path disappeared into the dark. "When he gets here, tell him… Tell him I said not to do anything stupid and to take care of you first."

Wide-eyed and looking a bit lost, the girl reached out to him but stopped herself short. "But where are you-?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but finding herself with nothing else to say deliberately closed it again. She was still staring after the spot where he'd disappeared when a tall, dark-haired man, appeared next to her on the walkway. Curious, she let her eyes pass over the rugged, less pretty features of his face. He was attractive in his own way and there was something casual about his demeanour that she liked. When he returned her gaze with one of his own she decided that he had rather nice eyes as well.

"Let me guess…"

She didn't even let him finish his thought before she was slowly nodding her head. Her mind was too preoccupied to worry about asking for the money. She couldn't stop thinking about the girl. Of course she'd noticed that the girl was different from the usual crowd when she'd seen her hanging around the temple four nights earlier, but she wondered now what made her so special? It was rare to find a man willing to hazard anything for a woman anymore, and yet, that detective was willing to risk everything for her.

The solid weight of folded yen being pressed into her palm stirred her out of her thoughts long enough for her mouth to blurt out the question that'd been repeating over and over again in her mind.

"I don't get it. Why's he going to all this trouble? I mean, he said she was a friend but Inagawa-kai's no joke…"

With a remorseful grimace, Kouga closed up his sadly deflated wallet and tucked it into the back of his pants. Casting a glance up at the moon, he thought her words over a moment before letting out a thoughtful 'hmmm'.

"Higurashi's an interesting woman. She's the only person I know who's ever been able to get through to him." After a reflective pause he added, "She saved him. I s'pose he figures it's about time he returned the favour. Speaking of the bastard, he still inside?" he asked with a jerk of his thumb toward the temple.

The girl shook her head and pointed toward one of the far paths that led away from the temple to the main road. "He left just before you got here. Told me to tell you not to do anything stupid and to take care of me first – whatever that means."

All easy going humour gone, Kouga stared between the temple and the girl in wide-eyed disbelief. "How long?" he prodded and took hold of her shoulders as much to catch her eye as to steady himself.

"I dunno, ten minutes? Maybe a bit more?"

Unnerved by the panic underlying his tone and the speed at which his light mood had disappeared, she quickly shrugged her shoulders out from beneath his hands and took a cautious step backwards. It was a good thing too, because his fist narrowly missed her foot when he sent it careening toward the frozen earth in a sudden fit of rage.

Each successive blow was followed by a string of vile curses and when that wasn't enough, he threw his jacket to the ground for good measure. Anger temporarily assuaged, he retrieved his jacket from the ground and righted himself. Still growling, he shoved his arms through the sleeves and pulled it shut across his chest.

"Takahashi you stupid son of a bitch," he seethed, "If you're not already _dead_ by the time I get there I'm gonna fucking kill you myself."

* * *

_Author's Note:_For those of you who may be curious, the Inagawa-kai and the Sumiyoshi-kai _are_ real yakuza gangs in Tokyo. I'll do my best to be accurate in my portrayal of them. The only artistic license I've taken so far is the bit about a spider tattoo being a mark of Inagawa-kai membership.

Since my last update LSR placed third for "Best AU" in the _1__st__ Quarter 2008 IYFG Awards_! I was so honoured that you, the readers, thought enough of this fic to nominate it and for it to place too…just wow – thank you so much!

Nominations for the 2nd Quarter are already in and by the looks of it LSR is nominated in the categories "Best AU" and "Best Inu/Kag Romance"! For believing in this fic enough to nominate it, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to LRose, madmiko, audaciouspen, and lunatickat. I can't forget Kibo either, for sticking with me from the beginning despite all my plot meandering. ;)

Until next time…

Langus


	19. The Deepest Blues Are Black

_Note: _This chapter contains graphic, violent imagery. If you are squeamish or sensitive please keep this in mind.

(I realize I originally said I'd title this chapter "The Devil You Know" but I had a last minute change of heart. I'd also like to point out that I _despise_ the formatting system here at FF. Net. Everything ends up squished together and believe me I've tried everything to make it NOT look like this but to no avail. So I apologize for the cramped read.)

* * *

"Thailand is beautiful this time of year."

She looked up from the Thai travel guide in her hands and took quick inventory of the man standing next to her. He was taller than her by a head or so, clean cut, with black hair and dark eyes to match. Attractive and trying to pick her up in a bookstore instead of a bar - for Kagome Higurashi the two were a winning combination.

Flashing a warm smile she asked, "Really? Have you been?"

"A couple times," he offered with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

_A traveller too_. Her mind quickly added this to his running tally of worthwhile characteristics and she felt her features brighten in response. Feeling bold, she stepped a little closer and turned so he could see the page she had open. It was an extensive and rather uninspiring list of the country's popular tourist destinations. "Do you have any recommendations?"

She smiled inwardly as he casually bent his head to peruse the list. He smelled damn good too, like a real man - mature, confident…secure. After three years in college surrounded by boys who smelled like stale beer, or in the best case scenario cheap body wash and deodorant spray, standing this close to a real man was a welcome change.

His back straightened and she quickly darted her eyes back to the page to hide the fact that she'd been staring at him rather than the book. With a finger he tapped one particular spot and looked down at her with a small smile. Her eyes immediately settled on his finger and she nodded appreciatively at its clean, manicured look. A man's hands could tell a lot about how well he took care of himself and judging by the clean cut look of his, he was the kind of man who took pride in his appearance.

It took a moment for her to clue in to the fact that he was trying to answer her question. She tried not to blush when she lifted her eyes from the page to meet his. Up close they appeared so dark they were almost black. It was rare to see such dark eyes and she found herself drawn in by their uniqueness.

"…is a definite must see."

Completely clueless as to what he'd been talking about, she nodded and offered him a grateful smile. "Thanks - Uh… I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?"

Sure it was one of the oldest lines in the history of lines, but judging by the way his eyes creased into an easy smile he didn't seem to mind. With a slight bow in her direction he tilted his head towards her and replied with an air of confidence, "Takeda, Oniguomo. And you are?"

She bowed and replied, "Higurashi Kagome." Heart fluttering, she closed the travel guide and held it against her chest. "Well, Takeda-san, thank you for the tip. I'll be sure to check it out when I'm there."

She liked the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue. Takeda – simple yet refined and it more than made up for his strange first name. Oniguomo… She had to wonder what kind of parents gave a name like that to their child. He responded to her thank you with a gracious nod and leaned back so there was once more a polite distance between them. She felt distinctly disappointed by it but understood that under the circumstances, being that they were complete strangers and all, anything else would've been inappropriate.

"When do you leave?" he asked offhandedly.

Her eyes followed his hands as he shifted the small stack of books he was holding from one arm to the other. She only managed to catch a quick peek at one of the titles – _Discipline and Punish_. So he was a psychology buff? She supposed it fit, but somehow she'd expected an arm full of business books instead. With a light shrug she set her book down on the table she'd taken it up from.

"In a couple weeks I think. A fellow classmate of mine wants to go for a bit of a mini-vacation once exams are done."

"Boyfriend?" he inquired without missing a beat.

"No, just a girlfriend." She laughed and her knowing look answered his real question – I'm single.

He caught on quick and reached into the inner pocket of his sports coat with practised ease to produce a small business card. He offered it out to her and she accepted it with a tiny bow.

"I hate to cut this short but I need to head back to the office. If you have time before your trip I'd love to take you out for dinner."

The breath caught in her throat and for a moment she simply blinked up at him. Things like this didn't happen to her. Random attractive men didn't suavely pick her up in bookstores. It was the kind of thing that happened in modern romance novels and TV shows – not to Kagome Higurashi!

Feeling light-headed and slightly giddy, she fished a business card out of her purse and handed it to him. Who said it didn't pay off to be prepared? Her journalism professors had practically beat her over the head with those very words since day one – Always have a business card on you! You never know when you'll meet a potential source! Well, Takeda wasn't a source, but at the moment she couldn't have been more thankful to her profs for their advice.

"Sure. Dinner sounds great."

He flashed a brief, winning smile as he tucked her card into his wallet and she could've sworn her heart momentarily stopped beating. _So that's what a killer smile looks like_, she mused.

"Well Higurashi, it's been a pleasure. I'll give you a call later in the week."

She'd nodded dumbly and watched him head off towards the cash register to pay for his books. Charming, forward, definitely employed and as – she pulled the card out of her purse and glanced at his title – a consultant. Well, 'consultant' was a rather ambiguous title. His card didn't really say what _kind_ of consulting he did or what company it was for, but for now the fact that he had a real job, read something beyond the daily sports scores and seemed to be well travelled was impressive enough.

Still feeling hot in the face, she tucked his card safely into her wallet. A dismissive glance was cast down at the travel guide she'd been perusing earlier and she decided against buying it. As she left the store she took a moment to glance at the cash register but was disappointed to see that he was already gone.

The disappointment didn't last long. He called, as promised, three days later to invite her to dinner.

* * *

The room, the chair, the pain in her shoulder, the stickiness of the sweat on her brow, the stench of rotting flesh, the overwhelming proximity of his body to hers – it all came roaring back in fighting form. She blinked slowly, pulled in a shuddering breath and let it out.

It was still far too real. Even as the memory faded the feelings associated with it lingered. He pulled away slowly and her eyes swept the familiar features of a face she hadn't seen in years. A lifetime had passed since the day Oniguomo Takeda walked into her life in that unassuming book shop three blocks from campus.

It hadn't been hard to fall in love with him. His confidence was attractive. The way he carried himself exuded a sense of self-worth, a surety in his own person that she found intoxicating. When he walked into a room people would stop what they were doing, look up and stare. He passed them by without a sideways glance as though things had always been that way and she couldn't help but be drawn to him.

He had a knack for making her feel radiant whenever she was with him. He lavished her with the kind of attention a rich woman bestows upon the miniature breed tucked inside her handbag. She was his favourite pet, full of sentiment and selfishness, primped and coddled and ready to be on his arm to show off when needed. At the time she never thought to be troubled by it. The gloating pride she'd felt at seeing the looks of jealousy on her friends' faces was a potent lure. They'd all wanted what she had and the pleasure of it spread through her chest like a shot of warmed sake.

If only she'd known then what she knew now, if only she hadn't been so blind; there were a lot of "if only"s when it came to Oniguomo, far too many to count.

His knuckles skimmed along the underside of her jaw, the pad of his thumb brushed across her bottom lip. It was still trembling in time with her hands.

"My beautiful Pandora…" His eyes swept over her battered face and a look of approval flittered briefly across his features, "I've been searching a long time for you."

"I thought you were dead." Her whisper was barely audible but he lingered close enough to hear it. A corner of his mouth lifted in a humourless smile and a dangerous look ignited his dark eyes.

"What do you want?"

She cringed at the way her voice audibly shook. There was no way to disguise the fear. He seemed to consider her question, the humourless smile still in place. He casually rubbed a hand over the stubble growing along his jaw and settled back on the chair. His throat uttered a thoughtful 'hmmm' and he lifted his shoulders in a confident shrug before fixing her with a dark look.

"To finish what was started five years ago." There was a taunting lilt in his voice when he added, "Don't tell me you forgot already?"

No… She didn't forget. There hadn't been time enough for that. Being with Inuyasha had helped but even he couldn't dispel the memories completely. How could he help when he didn't even know the ugly truth? She'd never found the strength to tell him. The risk of losing him forever had scared her too much. And now… now…

For five years she pretended that it'd only been a nightmare.

For five years she prayed to forget…

She was still praying, but the memories came back anyway.

* * *

It was late, well past eleven when she finally slipped her key into the lock of the apartment door and pushed her way inside.

"Baby? I'm home!"

Her voice resonated down the darkened hallway and echoed back to her in a lonely way. It seemed strange that there weren't any lights on. Wasn't he home? Setting her knapsack down by the door, she slipped her feet into a well-worn pair of slippers and shuffled towards the living room with her purse slung over her shoulder.

"Baby?"

The darkened emptiness of the hall carried into the sitting room and the kitchen as well. There was no sound throughout the entire apartment but for the quiet scrape of the soles of her slippers against the matted floor and the rhythmic tick of the clock over the sink in the kitchen. Convinced he must have gone to bed early, she only popped her head into the dining room for a quick glance. A flicker of movement in the shadows by the table caught her eye. Brow furrowed, she flicked the light on and let out a gasp of surprise.

"What are you doing sitting in here with the lights off?" she admonished gently.

She took a step towards the table and stopped. Something felt…off. It wasn't like him to sit in the dark like that and she couldn't understand the anxious, wary feeling that was suddenly swimming around in her gut. The man who glanced up at her from the table was a stranger. There was something dark and base staring back at her from behind his eyes. They almost looked animalistic, tempered with a wildness she didn't recognize or understand.

"Where've you been?" he asked in a deceptively calm tone. She swallowed and took a nervous step forward to set her purse and keys on the table.

"What do you mean? I've been at the library studying."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

She jumped when his palms crashed loudly down against the tabletop. The centrepiece vase filled with rose coloured chrysanthemums wobbled and threatened to topple over. With wide, incredulous eyes she stared at him and found herself at a complete loss for words. He'd never raised his voice to her. He wasn't the kind of man who lashed out when he was angry. His emotions were always tempered by logic and maturity. Even upset he was quiet and refined. The sudden change caught her completely off guard.

"What do you mean? I'm not lying," she tried to reason, "I told you I had a test to study for tonight. Don't you remember?"

He sneered and nodded towards her purse. "Then why'd you turn your cell phone off?"

"My cell phone?" She glanced down at her purse and curiously fished it out only to realize that the battery had gone dead. "Oh, the battery... I guess I forgot to charge it." She laid the phone on the table and frowned. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry."

Feeling guilty, she made her way over to him and began to rub his shoulders. The muscles felt tense beneath her fingers, but they relaxed somewhat under her gentle ministrations.

"Are you hungry? I could make something," she offered tentatively, still wary after his earlier outburst. She hadn't expected it and it'd scared her more than she wanted to admit. She kept her fingers kneading deep into the muscles of his shoulders to hide the fact that they were still shaking.

"No, it's fine. Let's just go to bed," he relented sounding somewhat defeated. She stepped back so he could push out his chair and offered him a quick apologetic kiss once he was standing in front of her.

He returned it, slowly at first. The touch of his lips was light and tender before it grew steadily more demanding. She bowed beneath his power and found that she was barely able to keep pace as his lips crushed against hers and his tongue plunged into her mouth. When her knees gave out he held her up with a hand propped under each thigh. Despite her tentative pleas that they move to the bedroom, he took her hard atop the table.

She fought it at first since his outburst hadn't exactly put her in the mood to do much of anything intimate, but he wouldn't relent. For whatever reason she sensed that he needed this, so she let him have his way. She wouldn't have classified what followed as making love. He'd always been a little bit kinky in the bedroom but this was different. For the first time he didn't seem concerned about her pleasure or desire. His movements were selfish and self-gratifying. He dominated her body every way he could, growling out demands, thrusting into her as hard or as gentle as he saw fit. It was like he was trying to stake a claim on her, re-possess her somehow through touch alone. In the animal kingdom it would make sense, but not here and not with him.

He didn't let her sleep at all that night. He kept her awake with his incessant demands for her body and never once seemed satiated. The sky was light when he finally came for the last time and rolled over in their bed so sleep could claim him. She distinctly remembered glancing at the clock next to their bed. It was 5:30 - her test was in three hours.

She failed it.

* * *

No, she hadn't forgotten any of it. She remembered the first time as clearly as if it'd happened just yesterday and all the pain, self-depreciation and confusion that went along with it. What had made him change? Even now, she couldn't understand. Seeing his gloating look she was tempted to ask him on the off chance that he would answer. Before she had the chance he posed a question of his own.

"You hear that?"

Seeing her stricken look he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and stood in one fluid motion. With one wrist clasped behind his back, he took to pacing slowly in front of her. She followed his every move, not daring to look away even for a moment.

With an air of quiet appreciation he studied the room while his steps slowly circled her chair. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, analyzing her with a look so penetrating she felt violated right down to her bones. After a dramatic pause, his feet came to a halt and he lowered his gaze to settle on her face. She couldn't bear to meet it and quickly looked away.

"It's the sound of hope dying," he explained and made a grand, arching gesture with his hand through the air. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

When she didn't respond he took careful note of the way her body had closed in on itself, as though she were trying to cower from his very presence, and a small, patronizing smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He drew closer and used the tips of his fingers to tilt her chin upward to force her to meet his gaze. There was triumph in his eyes and a glint of pleasure. He'd won.

"If I knew you were so sentimental pet I would've come to visit you sooner."

Looking victorious, he pushed her face away and resumed his casual pacing. Her ears focused on the solid thud of his footsteps against the algae coated floorboards and just like that another memory took hold. Unrelenting and unforgiving it forced her back to relive the nightmare she'd tried unsuccessfully to bury. It was naïve of her to ever think she'd conquered the fear. What did her therapist know anyway? The fear had _always_ lingered; she'd never really been free from it at all.

* * *

Friday had come and gone in a whirlwind of textbooks and study notes. With midterms rearing their ugly head in a few week's time stress levels were high all round. So when Eri had suggested they go for a drink at the campus bar after a twelve hour marathon study session, she'd eagerly agreed without a second thought.

Seated at a small round table in the corner of the bar they'd sipped at cool pints of imported beer and spent the next few hours catching up on life outside of school. One round of drinks eventually became three and by the time she stumbled onto the metro she was more than a little tipsy. It was well past one when she arrived at her door, still buzzed and feeling blissfully happy.

It took a bit of fumbling around in her bag before she found her keys and after dropping them twice, eventually found her way into the apartment. With a sigh she dropped her bag on the floor next to her feet and lazily flicked on the hall light. She was surprised to find him standing there, just inside the door. Leaning her shoulder against the wall for support, she slipped off her shoes and offered him a watery smile. Maybe if she played her cards right she could get lucky before bed.

"Hey baby, how was your night?"

She didn't even see the first blow coming. His fist struck her hard across the jaw, snapping her head sharply to the right. Disoriented and already unsteady on her feet, she crumpled to the floor, just barely managing to catch herself on all fours. For a moment the hallway faded into the background, drowned out by the loud buzzing in her ears. She blinked slowly, her eyes straining to see past the explosions of white light that dotted the peripheries of her vision. It was like she was looking at the world with a set of blinders on and she couldn't seem to shake them off.

She felt his presence nearby and turned to see that he'd squatted down next to her. The expression on his face was strange – there was no emotion on it whatsoever. He didn't look upset, which made the fact that he'd just hit her in the face that much harder to comprehend.

"Where were you Kagome? Studying again?" he demanded harshly before fisting her hair and dragging her to her feet. She blinked at him, half dazed, and tried to shake her head 'no' but found that she couldn't.

"Don't lie to me bitch!"

She felt the sting of the back of his hand before he shoved her roughly into the wall. Holding her there with the crushing pressure of one hand against her shoulder, he used the other to point a menacing finger in her face. "I can smell the booze and cigarettes all over you. Now where the _fuck_ were you? Start talking!"

Her alcohol induced good mood died a sudden death and tears filled her eyes. This wasn't him. She never would've believed he was the kind of man who'd hit a woman before tonight. Her hand lifted to her swollen cheek and she could feel it throbbing beneath her cool fingertips. She'd be lucky if it wasn't bruised come morning. How the hell was she supposed to explain that away? It would be painfully obvious to anyone with a brain that he'd hit her.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you being like this?" she demanded, obstinately refusing to answer his question. He growled and struck her across the mouth. She could taste blood when she turned back to face him. The warm wetness pooling at the corner of her mouth suggested he'd split her lip open.

"Answer the fucking question Kagome. Where. Were. You."

There wasn't even a hint of apology in his dark eyes. Perhaps it was the alcohol still messing with her inhibitions, but instead of getting scared like any rational person would in that kind of situation she got angry. Glaring at him, she lowered her hand from her cheek and used the back of it to pointedly wipe the blood from her lip.

"I went to the campus bar with Eri for a few drinks after we studied! Happy? What the hell's wrong with you?!"

Pushing away from the wall, she brushed past him on her way to the living room. She was too riled up to go to sleep now and didn't particularly like the thought of sharing a bed with him at the moment. She needed some time to cool down and watching mind numbing, late night talk shows seemed like the perfect solution. She'd only gone maybe three paces toward the living room before she found herself face to face with the wall.

The pain of the impact ricocheted through her brain and for a moment she was certain she would pass out. The sharp pain she felt when he used a fist full of hair to half drag, half carry her toward the living room kept her conscious. She wasn't sure what possessed her to start struggling, but she was suddenly all flailing arms and legs. When he refused to drop her, she sunk her teeth into his arm until she drew blood.

The reaction was instantaneous. He howled in outrage and threw her to the ground. She didn't waste any time. Her limbs moved on their own, on hands and knees she crawled towards the door, towards freedom. She wasn't sure where she was going to go – maybe to Eri's, maybe to her family's place – but that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting the fuck out of that apartment and as far away from him as possible.

He was fast though, faster than she'd expected him to be. He pounced on her from behind and flipped her over onto her back so he was straddling her hips. She only had a second to study the face she'd grown to love, contorted by an expression she couldn't decipher, before the next blow landed.

"You BITCH!"

_Slam._

That was the sound her head made when it bounced off the wooden floor. Her hands lifted to cover her face but that didn't dissuade him in the least. When her face was hidden he aimed well placed blows against her body instead. Liver, stomach, breast – his fists found purchase on every area that would hurt. He continued to scream at her the entire time but the actual words faded in and out. Every so often she'd catch a phrase here or there. _Ungrateful bitch. Whore. _

The entire experience was so surreal that for a time she felt like she was watching it happen from somewhere outside of herself. It took five minutes before she mercifully lost consciousness and he relented. Her face was mottled with blood and her body red with deep bruises left by his angry fists. He'd left her like that, prostrate and bleeding in the hallway, while he went to take a shower. He'd returned some time later, clean, calm and freshly changed. After a thoughtful glance at the mess he'd made, he retreated to the bathroom and emerged a few moments later with a bowl of water and a facecloth.

She'd drifted in and out of consciousness for the rest of the night. One of the times she stayed awake long enough to open her eyes, she was stunned to see him looking down on her wearing a tender expression. Her face was numb, but she could see the red stained washcloth he was using to clean the blood. His tone was soft and gentle when he spoke to her.

"Baby, this is what happens when you're disrespectful to me. Just learn to keep that mouth of yours in line and things like this won't happen."

_So this is my fault?!_ her mind screamed but her mouth refused to form the words. She wanted to lash out and wipe that stupid pathetic look from his face but her body felt like it was weighted down with lead. The best she could do was moan softly and loll her head to the side so she stared at the wall instead of at him. Just the sight of him made her sick. Had she the strength, she would've told him to go to hell and crawled out the door. Anything would've been preferable to being within touching distance of such a monster.

She felt him tuck her into bed at some point during the night and woke up in the morning to find her purse and keys gone and a near-empty bottle of pain killers on the bedside table. The pain in her head had been almost unbearable when she'd first opened her eyes. She barely had time to feel her way to the bathroom before she was sick in the toilet. A part of her wished it'd been from the drinks she'd had with Eri the night before but the memories that drifted back to her while she was hovering over the toilet told a different story.

Stomach empty, she swallowed down the painkillers and kept her fingers crossed that they would do the trick. She slept away most of the morning and afternoon, only waking occasionally to use the bathroom. It hurt too much to be awake or move around. Not just her body, but her heart as well. Awake, she had time to dwell on what'd happened the night before. She couldn't understand it and the more her brain tried to figure it out the less sense it made. It made even less sense when she finally found the courage to stand in front of the bathroom mirror and survey the damage.

She must've stood there ten minutes studying the half-closed eyes of the unrecognizable face staring back at her. The person behind the mirror wasn't her. She wasn't the girl who had an abusive boyfriend. Her boyfriend was perfect – everyone thought so. She could vividly remember touching the glass, since it hurt too much to touch her own face, and watching the tears slip from her eyes.

In the hope that it'd all been a bad dream, she'd gone back to bed only to be sadly disappointed when she awakened a few hours later to find her body still aching and him standing next to her.

"How do you feel?" he asked gently. He brushed fingertips along her hairline in a soothing gesture that matched the patient look he was giving her. Revolted, she jerked her head away from his touch and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fuck you," she whispered hoarsely.

He frowned but didn't comment further before stalking out of the room. She'd half expected him to come back and beat her but he hadn't. He'd slept on the couch that night and in the morning there weren't any painkillers left on the bedside table. She spent the entire day searching every cupboard in that apartment. He'd removed them all.

* * *

Her hands shook in her lap until she curled them into tight fists that left crescent shape impressions on her palms. As the memories of that night seeped back, so did the feelings of anger and the utter sense of betrayal. He'd made a fool out of her. For months he'd pretended to be something that he wasn't and deceived everyone, including her, into thinking he was a great guy, a genuine winner. What a fucking joke.

Her gaze lifted from the floor to follow his slow, confident movements. Dark and turbulent, her navy eyes narrowed, repulsed at the very sight of him. Hate was a strong word but to describe how she felt toward this man, it wasn't strong enough. She _loathed_ him. Every fibre of her being wanted to destroy him, cut him into little pieces and then spit on his ashes. Her hands shook but it wasn't from fear; when you hate someone that much, there just isn't any room left to feel anything else.

Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to fix her with a patronizing look that made her skin crawl. Her spine straightened in response and she returned his smile with a determined glare.

"What the fuck do you want with me?"

Her voice was hoarse but it was stronger than either of them had expected it to be. His eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise and he turned bodily to face her.

"You've been grandstanding since you got here so get to the point already," she prodded before tossing her hair out of her face with a quick shake of her head.

He seemed to like that comment, smiled a little at it actually. He took a step closer and then his feet slowed to a stop. His hand didn't slow down though. It struck her sharply across the mouth. The slap resonated through the charged air between them and the room fell silent.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners? It's not polite to swear," he admonished.

With a quiet snort she turned away to stare at the dirty bank of windows and hide the tears stinging her eyes. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he shirked off his jet black designer sports coat, folded it once and draped it over the back of his chair. He loosened the tie around his neck next, followed by the top two buttons of his starched collar. They were twisted with a crisp 'snap' and left to hang open. It was only once he'd neatly laid his tie across his jacket over the back of the chair that he continued.

"Five years is a long time to look for any one person," he mused sounding somewhat thoughtful. "Five years, seven months and twelve days. You have to have a lot of drive to search for someone that long."

"It hasn't always been easy," he continued, now methodically rolling the sleeves of his indigo dress shirt to reveal the powerful corded muscles of his forearms. "A lot of money went into finding you, a lot of manpower too. More than a few lives had to be sacrificed, but it was all worth it now that you're here."

Shooting her a pointed look, he lowered himself onto the chair once more and rested his chin atop his fist. "Do you know why you're here Kagome?"

He leaned imperceptibly closer, just close enough to set her on edge. Her eyes fell to the black and red inked dragon tattoo snaking down the inside of his forearm. Its fanged face leered at her, frozen in a silent howl. Despite the situation, she found it strange that all she could think was, _'That's new.'_

His hand clapped suddenly over her injured shoulder and she cried out when his fingers bit cruelly into the swollen joint. Fighting back tears she shook her head 'no' and he pulled her in close until his lips were nearly brushing her ear.

"Because mankind has enough miseries to deal with."

The pungent smell of his expensive cologne lingered in the air and flooded her senses, leaving her feeling dizzy. She shook her head slowly back and forth as her mind tried in vain to piece together his cryptic words. While the fingers on his left hand dug further into her shoulder, the fingers on his right tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear in a gesture that was so gentle she almost laughed out loud at the irony of it.

"The world doesn't need another Pandora, Kagome."

Her eyebrows drew together and she opened her mouth to respond but he stopped her with a sharp look and a subtle shake of his head.

"After all this time, you know what I really want to know?"

The gears in her mind were shifting and turning, analyzing every word that came out of his mouth in a hopeless race for understanding. It wanted to move forward to the answer but was stuck on his scent, bogged down by the pungency of it, the headiness of it swimming in her brain. He smelled of wealth, power and faintly of roses, but he didn't smell like _him_.

The realization slammed through her like a two tonne truck. She swallowed slowly and winced at the tightness in her throat. She could hardly breathe. His presence was suffocating and she could feel herself drowning beneath the weight of her new discovery. Her eyes shifted to meet his and she breathed out slowly as she realized she was staring into the eyes of a stranger.

There were things about him that were different of course, the tattoo for one, and he had longer hair as well, but five years was a long time. A person could change a lot in five years – she had, or at least she thought she had until his appearance made her doubt every inch of her progress. She had an inkling that she already knew the identity of the man sitting across from her, but boldly asked anyway.

"Who are you?"

He sneered, wordlessly mocking her ignorance. Ignoring her question, he posed one of his own.

"September 24, 2002. Do you remember that night?"

For an entire year, every time she'd closed her eyes all she could see was red. Each time she'd passed by the butcher shop on the way to class she'd nearly vomited from the stench of the coppery blood wafting out the open door. It'd taken four years of therapy to learn how to forget but mention of the date alone was enough to bring it all rushing back.

Her voice wavered when she answered, "Yes."

Dark eyes narrowed at her with a malice she felt penetrate her to her very core. He wasn't playing around anymore. His faux carefree demeanour was gone without a trace and all that was left was a vicious thing that was a hair away from unleashing its fury on her like a tempest.

His dead eyes bore into hers and dug around in her heart without permission. She felt violated but no longer possessed the strength to look away. The realization that he wasn't Oniguomo had caught her completely off guard and she was still floored, floundering, trying to catch her breath.

"How did you feel when you killed my brother like a traitorous bitch?"

_Brother_.

That one word suddenly brought everything into focus. She understood perfectly why she was there and why he'd searched so long to find her. Perspective was everything. Knowing he expected an answer, she closed her eyes in resignation and braced for impact. The truth might not set her free, but she couldn't bring herself to lie – not when it came to him. Her eyes opened slowly and calmly held his gaze. Her mouth, with dry lips that tasted like blood, boldly uttered the ugly truth.

"Free."

* * *

_Author's Note: _The plot thickens. Seems that even Kagome has her share of dark secrets. I kept my promise this time re: the speedy update :) I've been working on this chapter for a while now. It took a while because I had to go to a dark place before I could put the words down. I don't particularly like writing chapters like this one, but the story has a mind of its own and I needed you guys to understand where Kagome is coming from in all of this. She's not being a wimp or a wuss, she has every reason to be legitimately terrified of this man.

If I haven't scared you off with all this dark stuff please leave a review (I really love reviews. They inspire me to write faster). Inuyasha will be featured next chapter yay! I haven't written it yet so I can't say when it'll be posted but hopefully soon.

I'm dedicating this one to ElegantPaws and Kibo for all the support. You guys are awesome :)

Until next time…

Langus

Selected Listening:

Bach – Suite for Solo Cello No. 1 in G

Mogwai – I Know You Are but What Am I?

Mum – We Have a Map of the Piano


	20. Walking the Line

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 20

- Walking the Line -

The pier adjacent to the Tsukiji fish market was as quiet as the grave. A thin, early morning mist curled over the water logged wood of the dock on its way into shore and echoed the hollow sound of his footsteps back to him. In a few hours, well before the first bits of rosy dawn warmed the horizon, the dark waters of the bay would be teeming with fishing boats. Laden down by compartments filled with the night's catch, they would line up along the pier, one behind the other, and patiently await their turn to unload.

For the time being, there wasn't a boat or person in sight. Even the swollen moon seemed to hide behind the great dark clouds that'd returned to blanket the sky. With only the dim haze of the dock lights to illuminate the path ahead, he moved purposefully from storehouse to storehouse, stopping only briefly at each one to search for traces of her scent.

The combined aromas of old fish, decay and algae were practically overwhelming, making it hard to distinguish any individual scents, let alone single out hers. The saying, 'like finding a needle in a hay stack,' didn't have shit on this. By habit he avoided the docks whenever possible simply because the stench that wafted up from them was enough to knock him over on a good day, but tonight, well tonight he just didn't have a choice.

Suppressing a gag, he pulled in a slow even breath and closed his eyes. After stripping away the stench of fish and algae, what was left didn't help in the least. His own scent was there of course, as were the heady aromas of wood rot and stale beer. Slightly less noticeable was the unmistakeable coppery tang of blood. There was lots of it around, but none of it was hers. He breathed a sigh of relief at that, if only a minor one.

There wasn't a shred of her in the first storehouse or the second and after the third turned up empty as well he began to panic. What if he was wrong? He had no proof they'd brought her here after all, just a half-cocked notion driven by a small lead and his blind determination to find her no matter what the cost. There was a book of rules about this kind of thing, a manual with steps and procedures that should be followed in hostage situations. He'd pretty much taken that book and used it to wipe his ass.

He'd left his partner, if he could stomach calling the bastard that, behind and gone ahead alone. He hadn't called for any backup and no one had any clue in Hell where he was. He'd "borrowed" a civilian vehicle to get there (if you call flashing your badge and ordering a bleary-eyed kid out of his parent's car "borrowing," that is). He was armed with nothing more than his service issue side arm and a single clip of bullets, and he hadn't exactly had the time to pull out his spare bullet proof vest.

He'd worked himself into a bad situation and he knew it. Just being there was a gamble, a risky one at that, but if it meant that her safety was guaranteed then he was all in. She didn't deserve anything less. He just hoped the sons of bitches who took here were the bargaining kind, since he didn't have any intentions of leaving empty handed. Wearing a grimace, he also futilely hoped they preferred knives to guns.

Taking a bullet was no picnic, even for a hanyou. They hurt like a bitch, and more importantly, he had absolutely no intention whatsoever of spending another Christmas in the hospital. Hell, even his demon blood wasn't a fail safe. One clean shot to the head and it'd be lights out. So he was left with two options – calm the fuck down, find her and be smart about it, or rush in, gun blazing like an idiot, and hope for the best. It wasn't hard to choose the right option, but that didn't make it the easy one.

Stopping outside the fourth storehouse along the stretch, he leaned against the metal sheeting of the exterior wall and sucked in a few deep breaths. Shit, he could've killed for a cigarette – anything to keep his hands steady. The cool air and the brief rest seemed to give him some of what he needed though. His shoulders relaxed as the calmness of the night around him soothed his ragged nerves and he steeled his resolve with a nod. With determination shining in his eyes, he turned his attention to the door of the fourth storehouse.

Out of all the buildings he'd seen thus far, it was the only one with a lock on the door. He fingered the lock that'd been left hanging open and loose in the padlock with a contemplative look. The metal, though weathered, appeared new and the lack of rust around the key hole suggested frequent use. With a silent 'hmmm', he took a step back and regarded the door with a subtle shake of his head. Waltzing in through the front door was just asking for trouble – he'd have to find another way.

Something about the look of this place had him excited. There was no hint of her scent lingering in the air to suggest that she was even inside, but something about it felt right. Gun drawn, he made his way silently round to the back side of the building. Wearing a look of disgust, he used the toe of his shoe to push several fish carcases and empty beer bottles into the murky waters below before making his way slowly along the foot and a half wide section of dock that separated the building from the water's edge.

He came to a halt next to a large set of double doors on the rear side of the structure and took a moment to scan the dock. Every sense he possessed strained and pushed outward in search of a sign, even a minor one, that he had company, but the night echoed only silence back to him. The dock was completely deserted. If Inagawa-kai was holding her here, they didn't appear to have any fear of being caught or interrupted. Their arrogance suited him just fine though since it gave him a chance to work. Using the freedom to his advantage, he took his time thoroughly inspecting the doors. He was more than a little surprised to find them not only unlocked but also standing partially ajar.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the darkened crack that was just large enough to fit a body through while his better sense told him to forget about it. The unlocked door at the front had seemed like an obvious invitation for trouble, but an open door? They might as well have put up a flashing neon sign for all the subtlety it had. He was tempted to say 'fuck it' and try his luck with the front door after all, but his feet remained rooted to the dock.

From the opening between the two doors wafted the scents from inside; a mixture curiously similar to all the others he'd smelled along the way but for one crucial factor. Beneath the stench of rotting flesh, algae, water logged wood, stale beer and urine, was blood - her blood.

_Fuck._

His mouth went bone dry as he tried unsuccessfully to swallow away the bitter aftertaste that lingered on his pallet. It was just like before, everything felt the same. He braced a hand against the metal sheeting next to him and closed his eyes against the memories. Just the scent of her blood had been enough to bring them all rushing back. He'd been too late to save Kikyou and the crushing weight of the guilt was a heavy burden. He'd never really be free from it - he'd just learned new and creative ways to deal with it - and at the moment it wasn't making things any easier.

Vivid images from a night five years past stole his breath away and left a pained grimace on his features. They'd left her on the grass of a children's playground. Beneath the stars and the blue light of the crescent moon her skin had shone like marble, flawless and smooth but for the lethal gouges carved out of her chest. The subtle, undeniable scent of death had hung all about her.

He'd knelt for an hour at her side, maybe longer, trying to absorb the scene before him. He knew, deep down he knew, that even if he'd arrived right after he never could've saved her. The wounds on her chest were deep, almost straight through; he could see the musculature, the white gleam of bone. That little bit of knowledge hadn't helped ease the pain though. The only thing that made sense in those few hours before the others arrived was that he'd failed her - utterly and completely. Her death was his fault and there was no way to fix that kind of mistake.

No one else blamed him of course. The Superintendent had given him one of those rare sympathetic looks before ordering him to let the Coroner do his job and go home. He hadn't wanted to let them touch her, any of them. Couldn't they just leave her alone? Hadn't she been through enough?

Used to obeying orders though, his body had moved automatically and his feet pulled him further and further away from the group of uniforms and flashing lights. His heart had railed against him the whole way but it wasn't loud enough to penetrate the numbness that'd overtaken him. He'd walked for hours, he didn't even know where, because he couldn't go home. Her scent was everywhere there, just waiting to taunt him with his failure and the emptiness of being alone.

It was three weeks before he worked up the courage to go back, and even then it was only to collect his things. He'd sucked back sips of JD and chain smoked the entire way. It hadn't helped a jot, but it'd numbed the pain enough to make it bearable. That was all he'd wanted anyway, to feel numb forever so he'd never have to cope with feeling that kind of ache again. The alcohol had worked until it wasn't enough anymore. The cigarettes had blocked out her scent until every trace of it had faded from the world. For five years he'd made himself numb, and then _she'd_ walked into his life.

Kagome Higurashi – a bitch on a mission. He wanted to think that the past few months with her were worth what he was feeling now. He kept telling himself that, to spite the nagging voice at the back of his mind that whispered he was wrong. It said he should've left things alone, that he never should've gotten involved with her, and it was right, but he couldn't say he regretted any of it either. The road hadn't always been smooth, but he'd felt alive again. In her own way she'd taught him how to feel, how to trust, how to exist day by day without using his vices as a crutch. And for a while, he was ashamed to admit, she'd helped him forget about Kikyou and the guilt. But now… There was no forgetting it now was there?

Clenching a fist at his side, he gripped the gun tight in his other hand and focused on maintaining control. His breaths sounded sharp and ragged to his ears and the sound alone was enough to fuel the rage that left him see nothing but red. The bastards had touched her! Just the thought of it made him sick, but he didn't have luxury of taking time to dwell on it. If they'd cut her open and left her to die he might only have a few minutes left to save her or say good bye. Either way, that scent meant one thing – he had to haul ass!

Telling his better sense to take a hike, he manoeuvred his way through the opening between the doors and immediately took cover behind a large crate. If possible, the stench of rot was even worse inside the structure than it'd been outside. This he could only attribute to the dank, muggy heat that filled the room. Keeping his gun at the ready, he stood slowly and took a quick survey of his surroundings. The room was large, dark, and filled floor to ceiling with shipping crates. His ears strained through the silence but heard nothing, only the shaky sounds of his own breaths. He swallowed, shifted out of hiding and listened again – still nothing. With a grunt, he decided to let his nose lead the way.

Taking tentative sniffs every few feet or so, he moved slowly behind the cover of the large transport crates stacked against the walls. His shoulders ached from the strain of holding his gun constantly at the ready. He rolled them a few times forward, then once backward, before admitting defeat. He could've killed for one of her shoulder rubs. She had a knack for knowing just where the kinks were and her skilled fingers left him absolute putty in her hands.

_Yeah… A nice long shoulder rub sounds good right about now…_, he mused with a tiny wince.

He added it to the growing list of things he'd do with her once she was home safe. Also on the list were shaking her until her teeth rattled for being stupid enough to go to Shiba Park alone at night in search of a lead, spending a week with her in bed getting "reacquainted", and taking that trip up to Hokkaido like he should've done in the first place. It wasn't misplaced optimism or naivety that led him to make such a list. He was just too damn stubborn to admit defeat. She was alive and well until proven otherwise because she had to be. At present, he wasn't in any state of mind to accept other options.

For a while there he'd debated adding 'tell her about the night of the new moon' to the list too. On second thought, he'd decided to give it more thought. It was no small thing to reveal your greatest weakness to someone. She deserved to know the truth, sure, but he just wasn't sure if he was ready to give it to her. It'd been a long time since he'd trusted anyone that much. Not even Kikyou had known…

The room seemed to grow warmer and more uncomfortable with each passing minute. He'd only been through the door a couple minutes and already he could feel sweat dampening this shirt beneath his jacket. With an irritated 'tch', he brushed at an itch on his cheek with the back of his hand and frowned. He felt like a damned rookie all over again – green and full of gusto. It'd almost gotten him killed when he'd first started.

An abandoned factory on the outskirts of Tokyo where they used to make mattresses; he still drove by it every once and awhile for kicks. It was the site of his first standoff and takedown. He was still a kid then, fresh out of the academy with a few rotations as a traffic cop under his belt – real heroic. He'd begged the Lieutenant to let him get in on the action and for whatever reason he'd agree. He later said he'd seen potential in him early on, but Takahashi doubted every word. He'd become the squad's biggest liability and its biggest disappointment – potential his ass.

So there he'd been, gun drawn, crouched behind a pile of mouse infested mattresses and trembling from head to toe. His eyes had watched with rapt fascination as the Lieutenant tried to negotiate with the hostile. The man was completely irate – there was no reasoning with him, everyone could see that. He kept blabbing on about the Second Coming or some other stupid nonsense. With two loaded guns in his hands though he was anything but harmless.

When negotiations fell through and the takeout went down, the hostile had fired wildly – semi-automatics, of course – and the Lieutenant was hit in the leg by a stray bullet. Wanting to be a hero, he'd dived out of his spot from behind the mattresses to help his superior and earned himself a bullet in the side. It was a through and through, just a graze really, but they'd put him on desk duty for two months because of it.

So much for being a hero. It'd become the theme of his life. He was always one step behind, one move shy, one minute too late.

_But not this time_, he told himself. _Not tonight_.

When he reached the end of the wall he made his way slowly up the rusted staircase that was there. He scent grew stronger with each passing step so he pressed forward despite the swaying of the metal and the ominous sounding groans that emanated from it. Finding himself safely at the top he blew out the breath he hadn't realize he was holding. Lifting an eyebrow, he glanced back over his shoulder at the staircase. How that thing had remained in tact all this time would forever remain one of life's great mysteries.

Thankful to still be in one piece, he turned his attention to the darkened hallway before him. Her scent was stronger here, the blood more palpable. Glaring at the darkened windows of the offices lining the hall, he kept his gun at the ready and his ears tuned to any sounds from ahead. Had they just left her alone in this place to die? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking blind into a trap, but there seemed to be no avoiding it.

At the end of the hall was a balcony, dimly lit by a grainy orange light. He took cover at the threshold, keeping his body pressed against the wall to the right of the door. Gun at the ready, he leaned forward just enough to survey what he could see of the view below - nothing but an empty room with some garbage strewn about. He frowned and darted across the hall to the other side and repeated his survey. A large bank of darkened windows covered the far wall. The layers of dirt caked to the glass blocked out any light from outside and hid the room from prying eyes. He blinked at the oddly placed beer fridge that looked relatively new next to the grime and mould covered crates it was resting upon.

He was still wondering who the hell would stay in this kind of place long enough to need a beer fridge when his eyes settled on her. For a moment he did nothing. Unable to breath, or think, or move, he simply stared. They'd tied her to a chair, feet bound to the legs and arms twisted behind her. Around her mouth was a gag to keep her quiet and from the way she was slumped forward in the chair, she didn't appear to be conscious. He'd never considered himself a spiritual man, but in that moment he thanked every kami in existence for small mercies. She was unconscious but alive, and most importantly, alone. Relief was replaced by rage when he caught sight of the blood stains, both fresh and old, that coloured her torn, white blouse.

While one hand unconsciously gripped his gun tighter, the other fisted at his side until his nails dug into the flesh of his palm and drew blood. All of his doubts and feelings of resignation faded into the background and for one brief moment, there was clarity in his thoughts – he would kill whoever had done that to her.

He would do it slowly, break them apart one piece at a time. It took a certain kind of man to hit a woman hard enough to make her bleed and the world would be one short by the end of the night if he had anything to do about it. He was a drunk, arrogant, violent bastard but even he had lines he would not cross and hitting a woman, that was definitely one of them.

Moving cautiously, he took his first steps out onto the balcony and did another quick sweep of the floor in search of unwanted guests. Seeing none, he proceeded to the stairs (which looked no less worse for the wear than their twin set on the other side of the hall) and made quick work of silently making his way down them.

Every instinct inside of him was screaming 'DANGER! DANGER!' but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. His features softened into a look of sympathy as he drew closer and saw the extent of the marks and bruises that covered her body. She might be alive, but it was painfully obvious that she'd been through hell. A hell he could've prevented if he'd only found her sooner. Someday he'd ask her to forgive him, but before that he had to set her free.

She was so close. So close he could almost reach out and touch her. All it would take was one quick jog and he'd be at her side, loosening her bonds as he told her everything would be okay. His feet hesitated. His body knew something that his mind didn't. He paused to give himself time to mull it over but it was already too late.

_Click. _

The hollow sound echoed somewhere just behind his left ear and a shot of icy fear squirmed down his spine. For someone like him, the dull click of a trigger being cocked was unmistakeable. Closing his eyes in defeat, he slowly lifted his hands in the air and tried not to choke on the self loathing.

"Not quite the grand, heroic entrance you were hoping for is it?" quipped a mocking voice from directly behind him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around how it was even possible for someone to sneak up on him from behind without his noticing when the voice spoke again.

"Come," it lured sweetly as a hand relieved him of his gun. "Now that you're here we can finally get started."

xXx

The ambience inside the quaint coffee shop was warm and welcoming. Tucked away down a side street, it stood neatly out of the way. Even so, the golden glow of the dimmed lights and small table lamps was enough to ward off the darkness of the night and winter's bitter chill. Perhaps that was what'd drawn him to such a place. He couldn't remember the first time he'd stopped in at the Vica Cafe or why, but for one reason or another he kept coming back.

He mulled this over while the ceramic mug nestled between his hands steadily warmed his skin. There was nothing special about the Vica Café. It was ordinary, bordering on the side of plain even, and always sparsely populated. The lack of other patrons was something of a blessing after a gruelling night spent touring his many establishments. It'd been many months since he first set foot through the café's door and now his feet led him to this place of their own accord.

Despite its humble appearance, the café did possess some redeeming qualities. For one, no one in his line of business would consider stopping in at such an unassuming establishment – so privacy and a few solitary hours with his thoughts were almost guaranteed. For another, the coffee was some of the best he'd ever tasted. He nodded appreciatively as he took a long, slow sip from the cup in his hands. The rich aroma tickled his delicate palate as he swallowed and the coffee's liquid warmth banished the winter chill from within. Despite tasting heavenly, the coffee was reasonably priced – two characteristics that were hard to find anywhere in Tokyo.

Cup empty, he set it on the table next to him and bent down to thumb through the small collection of books stacked next to his chair on the floor. Classics mostly, Sun Tzu's _Art of War,_ _The Tale of the Heike, _a little poetry; with an arch of his eyebrow he retrieved the English classic _Macbeth _from the pile. It seemed so out of place with the rest, and for that reason he couldn't help but pick it up. His hands caressed the weathered binding along the book's spine appreciatively as one well tailored pant leg crossed the other. After studying it a moment, he cracked the book open to revel in the smell of old paper and ink that wafted up from its yellowed pages.

This was another one of his unique pleasures – reading old books. There was something about the smell of them and the feel of the pages beneath his fingertips that he found intriguing. He often gazed at the publication dates and tried to remember where he'd been and what he'd been doing at that point in time. It was hard to keep track of just how long he'd been alive, hard to remember that the Japan he lived in hadn't always been like this – a mass of concrete and steel, hypermodern in every way. These old books were a whisper from his past, like a memory that refused to be forgotten.

He found there to be something oddly comforting and familiar about the books, regardless of their content. This one in particular, _Macbeth_, the story of a king written by a humble English poet, was one of his particular favourites. The lesson that it is unwise to trust those closest to you had never rung clearer in his mind. It sounded cynical, but it was an aloof detachment from the companionship of others that had kept him alive these many centuries. One of the many rules of life, and the business world as well, is that when you have power there will always be someone waiting in the wings to challenge you for it.

Being constantly on guard had kept him alive and successful, but even he couldn't deny that at times it was a lonely existence. He'd gotten by just fine, without companionship that is, and he was not starved for women or subordinates. His money, looks and status ensured that there would always be a steady supply of both, but at random intervals he found himself wondering how liberating it would feel to know that there existed even just one person who understood him on more than a superficial level.

These were the types of troublesome thoughts he pondered in this little coffee shop. For some reason this place had a knack for making him feel uncharacteristically introspective. He didn't mind it so much, it was just that he couldn't understand the need or the cause for it. Why did such trivial things even matter? The reality was they didn't, and never would, but that didn't stop his mind from mulling them over. It was a confusing cycle indeed, one he was glad to find was restricted to this one, unassuming coffee shop.

"Can I offer you a refill?"

Though he was startled by the sudden intrusion into his thoughts, his body showed no outward signs of being surprised. He slowly lifted his gaze from the weathered pages of _Macbeth_ to meet the smiling chestnut eyes of the only waitress he'd ever seen working in the establishment. She was smiling brightly at him, a steaming coffee pot raised at the ready in her hand. His golden eyes flicked briefly to her name tag, though he'd long ago memorized her name, and he nodded graciously.

Humming quietly to herself, she poured him a fresh cup. As the coffee slowly filled the ceramic mug he noticed her eyes glance over at the book spread open across his lap.

"_Macbeth_? You a fan of the old English classics?"

She pulled the pot away and stepped back with a tiny bow. He nodded once more.

"Indeed. Thank you, Rin."

"Well you picked a good one to read," she determined with a thoughtful nod. "_Macbeth_ is one of my favourites."

He glanced up at her words, genuinely surprised that she'd read such a difficult piece of English literature. There was something poignant in the discovery that they shared an affinity for classic literature. His eyes met hers just in time to receive a warm smile and a playful wink.

"Can I get you anything else? We just baked up a fresh batch of biscotti…"

Her voice trailed off as she cast a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. He'd smelled the fresh baking the moment he'd walked through the door but he wasn't in the mood for it tonight. He still felt somewhat sickened by the scent of the whore's perfume that clung to his clothes. With a subtle shake of his head he turned away from her expectant stare and declined.

"Not tonight."

Un-phased she shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Well alright, but if you change your mind just let me know."

She didn't wait for him to respond before she turned and retreated quietly to the kitchen. His eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the thin curtain that separated the kitchen from the rest of the establishment. The curtain billowed and floated back into place and when it came to a rest he studied its silk screened image of a blue heron poised amongst the reeds. Like the heron, the waitress was quiet and unassuming; a plain, awkward bird to some but graceful and beautiful in her own way.

Taking up the steaming mug from the table, he brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip. She was one of the other perks of the Vica Cafe. Were he honest about it, he would probably admit that the coffee alone wasn't enough to draw him here night after night. There was something about her company that he found appealing. Unlike the other women he associated with, he'd never found her presence to be invasive or irritating. She simply existed - as a fluid, constant part of the background, always there but never in the way, always attentive but never an annoyance. She was a curious creature and though he'd barely spoken more than a few words to her in all the times he'd come to this place, never much more than the simple niceties, he found himself intrigued by her presence, or rather, the effect it had on him.

Setting the mug down on the table he noticed she hadn't bothered to leave any milk or sugar behind. He quirked an eyebrow at the empty table and glanced towards the kitchen. She was perceptive, he'd give her that much. In all the times he'd come to this place he couldn't ever remember her asking if he wanted any. He glanced quietly at the dark liquid in his cup and wondered how she'd known he only ever took it black.

With an inward shrug of indifference, he returned his attention to the book resting in his lap. Within minutes he was thoroughly engrossed in the familiar tale. Even so, every few pages or so found his eyes lifting to meet the dead eye of the blue heron. After a quarter hour of this he finally snapped the book shut, retrieved his coffee from the table and made his way to the small bar located in front of the kitchen.

For a moment he gazed disinterestedly at the three bar stools lined up alongside it before settling on the center stool and easing himself onto it. He'd only just set the coffee mug on the counter top when she stepped out from behind the curtain. With a knowing smile she set a plate with two pieces of freshly baked chocolate biscotti on it in front of him. He lifted an eyebrow marginally in question but she merely shrugged.

"I figured you might change your mind," she explained.

With a nod he selected one of the pieces and dipped it into his coffee. It was still warm to the touch and smelled sinfully delicious. Uttering something of a tired sigh she settled across from him on the other side of the small bar, and rested her cheek against her hand.

"How was _Macbeth_? As good as you remembered?" she asked, tilting her head towards the book.

He'd left it on the edge of the counter, nearly forgot about it in truth. He eyes followed hers and contemplated the book as he swallowed a bite of the biscotti. It tasted as delicious as it smelled. Feeling unrushed, he took his time and had a quiet sip of his coffee before responding.

"It happens to be a personal favourite of mine as well."

He found that he liked the way her eyes lit up at his words. Suddenly the tired looking chestnut orbs came alive and glimmered with excitement. Folding her arms in front of her she leaned toward him, not enough to be invasive but just enough for her scent to greet him over the smell of coffee and baked goods on the air.

"Have you ever read _Othello_?"

She smiled with a barely constrained exuberance and he grimaced slightly as he remembered the play in question.

"I don't care for romances. That one, it's a bit tragic if I remember correctly?"

She nodded in agreement and rested her chin thoughtfully on her hand. Her gaze lifted to the ceiling as she considered his comment.

"Well, that's true," she conceded, "but Macbeth_…_ he's probably the most tragic of them all. Imagine not having a single person you can trust? I think that's a sadder fate than anything else really."

He 'hmmm'ed and took a long, slow sip of his coffee before asking, "Where did you learn about Shakespeare? Certainly not here…"

She shook her head and her expression grew serious, if only for an instant. "No. I spent a lot of time in Britain when I was younger. In the secondary schools there studying his plays is mandatory for students."

He watched her discreetly as she spoke, all the while studying her chestnut coloured eyes. He kept expecting to see the same hungry look in them that he saw in all the others; eyes that saw no further than his exotic features and expensive suits. The women he met were of a certain breed - high class, wealthy, superficial and dangerously beautiful. This girl was none of those things and perhaps that was what drew him to her.

She was small, with plain features and simple clothes to match her simple name. It was obvious to his expert eye that she made just enough money to get by and then some, but she seemed content nonetheless. He'd never once seen her without a welcoming smile warming her features. It was so rare that women smiled at him without expecting something in return. She was a curious creature indeed. His gaze lingered on her thoughtful expression as he took another sip of coffee.

He wasn't sure why, but her comment about _Macbeth's _fate touched him. He stared openly at her, the coffee cup still resting between his hands, and with one glance something passed between them. It was something unspoken but somehow just as moving. Curious, he leaned imperceptibly closer to pull in her scent. Somewhere beneath the delicate aroma of coffee and the cocoa powder they'd used to make the biscotti he caught it. It was subtle and smelled of aloe, like the kind found in cheap hand lotions. It was also, rather unfortunately, very human.

Her smile wavered as he drew closer and she pulled back suddenly, putting some much needed space between them. Her eyes darted back and forth between his cold amber ones trying to read something in their depths. After a moment her brow furrowed and she glanced away in defeat to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

The air between them felt stifling and oppressive when she cleared her throat and slipped off her chair. Somehow the spell had been broken. Pointing to his empty coffee cup she took a step towards the freshly brewed pots sitting on their elements. "Another?"

Distracted, he took a second to realize what she was after and glanced down at the empty bottom of his cup. He seriously debated it for a moment and then shook his head 'no'. Lost to his thoughts, he didn't acknowledge her perplexed expression, and reached instead into the inner pocket of his jacket to retrieve his wallet. Without a second glance he slipped a 5000 Yen note onto the counter and gracefully slid off the stool.

He didn't look back as he pushed the heavy front door open and retreated outside. The door chime clanged and echoed dully as the door drifted closed behind him. His breath frothed in front of him in tiny white clouds, a testament to the stark cold of a mid-winter chill. Wearing a dark expression, he hastened his pace to put more distance between himself and the coffee shop. Stopping briefly at the end of the street, he glanced down the empty stretch of road in either direction before turning the corner and disappearing into the night; where the cold wasn't nearly so welcoming and the company even less so.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Hello everyone! I'm sorry this took a while to come out. I couldn't seem to get the first part right but hopefully all is in order now. The second part was written months ago and I never knew where to stick it in, but this chapter seemed like a pretty good fit. (The first half is all Inuyasha and the second is all Sesshomaru for those of you who may have had trouble deciphering it).

This chapter is dedicated to LRose, doggieearlover, and LuxKen27 for nominating/seconding LSR in the 2nd Quarter IYFG Awards. Thank you ever so much for your support :)

Lots of action next chapter so stay tuned!

- Langus


	21. Welcome to the Gauntlet

He could count on one hand, minus his thumb, the number of times he'd ever felt well and truly helpless in his life and unfortunately, this was one of them. His feet moved automatically, his body ushered forward by the constant pressure of the gun between his shoulder blades. He was out of weapons and, for the moment, completely out of options. At present it was taking every ounce of willpower he possessed to maintain some semblance of calm.

He could see the mottled bruises on her cheeks and smell the rich tang of her blood as his feet drew closer to where she sat. Whatever abuse had been inflicted upon her, it'd been recent. His teeth were grinding to the point where his jaw ached; from anger, from frustration, from knowing that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help her now.

To retain his sanity he kept his mind trained on one thing and one thing alone – finding the bastard who'd done that to her and making them unrecognizable. His fists were already clenched tight at his sides in anticipation, but the gun, that damn pressure in the middle of his back, left him at a severe disadvantage.

"Take a seat," the voice behind him ordered suddenly.

He glanced dismissively at the folding chair in question and stood his ground. No sense making it easy for them. The pressure from the gun eased away and was followed by a sharp blow to his right kidney. He sank like a stone, collapsing onto all fours. He did his best to keep his dinner down while trying to catch his breath. Figures they'd go for the kidneys. Grimacing, he rose shakily to his feet and turned to face his attacker.

Admittedly he was surprised to see Naraku Takeda levelling a gun at his head. He'd expected a lackey but one look told him that wasn't the case. Everything about the man standing before him, from the expensive dress shirt on his back to his well manicured appearance, spoke loud and clear of his vanity, his wealth and his power. It left his mind momentarily reeling as he wondered why a man like Takeda would bother handling such a petty affair personally.

"So, Detective, we finally meet."

There was a certain sense of refinement underlying his words, one that left Inuyasha wondering after his origins. Every cop in the city knew who Naraku Takeda was, or had at least heard of him, but very little was known _about_ him. Had the circumstances been different, he would've entertained the notion of sitting him down and picking his brain for a while. His accent was Tokyo based, that was certain, but there was something off about it. He wondered if perhaps he'd spent an extended period of time outside the country.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting years for this," Inuyasha shot back evenly.

"Years?" Takeda lifted an eyebrow as though surprised and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I had no idea your affection for me ran so deep."

A taunting half smile curved the left side of his mouth upwards. Inuyasha wanted nothing more than to rid him of it with a solid fist to the teeth. Instead, he feigned a casual air and tilted his head in Kagome's direction.

"What about the girl?"

"What about her?"

"You've had your fun, so let her go. She doesn't need to be around to see this."

"Let her go?" he sounded genuinely shocked by the suggestion. "Why would I go and do a stupid thing like that?"

"Why the hell not?"

"Patience isn't one of your strong suits, is it?" Takeda chided with a lift of his eyebrow.

Uttering a 'tsk', he moved toward Kagome with slow methodical steps. Speaking quietly, almost to himself, he added with disappointment, "It seems you don't know me very well at all, Detective."

His eyes narrowed at Kagome's still form and his mouth dropped into a sneer. The look of utter hatred he sent her way sent a shiver down Inuyasha's spine. He could practically feel the malice radiating off of him.

Takeda cocked the gun and aimed it at Kagome's right knee. Without bothering to look his way, he ordered Inuyasha to sit once more. The message was loud and clear and there wasn't any more hesitating on his part. Wearing a scowl, he slowly stepped back towards the chair and lowered himself into it.

"So, what now?" he asked, trying to sound collected despite the choking pressure of his heart in his throat.

Takeda cast a turbulent glance over his shoulder and lowered the gun to his side. "Now, we get better acquainted. Apparently we have a long and sordid history, you and I."

Inuyasha glowered at him. "Look, you want me? You got me! You don't need the girl for collateral. I ain't goin' nowhere." He sat back against the chair and buried his hands in his coat pocket. "Let the girl go so we can get on with business – consider it a last request."

Takeda heaved a weary sigh and cast a disappointed look in Inuyasha's direction. "You think all of this," he asked, gesturing with a sweep of his arm, "is about you? You stupid, sorry bastard."

Inuyasha sat up a little straighter and his brow furrowed a little deeper. Barely containing his ire he bit out a response. "What the hell are you talkin' about? I got your letter. You wouldn't have sent it if you didn't want me to find you."

Takeda nodded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "True enough, but did you ever once ask yourself why?"

"Didn't need to. It wouldn't have made a difference."

Outwardly his words were calm, cool and borderline abrasive. Inside, his mind was running through theories and strategies at a mile a minute. What exactly was Takeda getting at? The lingering smirk on his lips said there was more to the story, much more, but his brain couldn't find the right piece to fit the puzzle. He kept scrounging and digging, only to come up empty handed. He was used to having the upper hand. He hated this cat and mouse bullshit. It wasn't his style, never had been and never would be.

"Enlighten me, Detective." Takeda's voice cut into his thoughts once more. "You thought I kidnapped your little girlfriend and lured you out here to the docks for what?"

"Only your twisted mind knows the answer to that," he replied evenly.

"Humour me."

Inuyasha glanced between the barrel of Takeda's gun and Kagome. "For revenge? To make a statement? How the hell am I supposed to know. You killed Kikyou to get at me. Why should this time be any different?"

"Well for starters," he offered with a slight shrug, "this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with her." He motioned to Kagome with the gun and Inuyasha nearly swallowed his tongue.

"What about Kikyou? How does she fit?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Kikyou?"

Takeda casually crossed his arms in front of his chest and tapped the barrel of his gun against his bicep. His brow furrowed, as though he was trying to remember a face to place to that name. Inuyasha wanted to wrap his hands around his throat and choke him until the life drained from his eyes. How dare he forget her? How dare he treat her death like it some something so inconsequential he could barely be bothered to remember it. He glared at the bastard in front of him as a white hot rage spread through his veins.

Eventually Takeda nodded, smiling a little as he spoke. "Hmmm, yes. I'd almost forgotten about her. It was a pity, really… having to destroy such a stunning creature. You know, she was so sure you'd save her? Kept insisting on it, right up until the very end..."

Inuyasha winced. It felt like a dull blade had been inserted into his chest and was slowly carving away at his insides. She'd died waiting for him. He thought he'd had it bad before, but this was so much worse than anything he'd ever felt. He gripped the edges of the chair until the metal creaked.

"I believe I owe you an apology."

Takeda's words caught him by surprise, so much so that he couldn't keep it from registering on his face.

"What?"

"Five years ago, I killed the wrong girl."

It took a moment before Inuyasha could swallow, much less convince his mouth to form syllables into words. "So let me get this straight... You're tellin' me Kikyou's death was… a _mistake_?"

Takeda nodded slowly and offered a small, patronizing bow of condolence. "A case of mistaken identity, actually. You have my apologies, Detective."

Inuyasha could taste the coffee he'd had earlier that night in his throat and swallowed it back down.

_Kikyou…_

His mind was reeling at a sickening pace, hardly able to keep up. All this time he'd assumed Kikyou had been killed because of her father, or at the very least, because the yakuza wanted to make their presence known to him, but never once had it occurred to him that she'd died from a case of mistaken identity. He'd spent five years searching for the truth and now that he'd found it he wished he hadn't. The last five years of his life amounted to nothing more than a dizzying blur of dead ends and empty leads. He'd wasted so much time barking up every tree but the right one!

The man he'd been searching for, the man he'd sworn to avenge her life against, was standing right in front of him. He was being offered a second chance, a chance to make it right, but he was paralyzed. The final piece had fallen into place, leaving his mind stuck in a feedback loop as it stumbled over it again and again. Five years ago, it was Kagome who should have died.

He watched through wide, haunted eyes as Takeda grabbed a fist full of Kagome's hair and jerked her head upright.

From the very beginning it was Kagome who was the target.

The hollow sound of the slaps Takeda placed against her cheek to rouse her echoed across the room and brought some part of him back from the brink.

Five years ago, Kikyou died in Kagome's place.

He blinked slowly, stirred and then blinked again.

The question now was why? Why Kagome? What connection could they possibly have?

Sitting up straighter, Inuyasha made a move to stand.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" he shouted, his voice echoing back to him off the rafters.

Heaving an indignant sigh, Takeda shot a scornful look over his shoulder. "Or what? You'll make me wish I hadn't?"

Inuyasha ground his teeth and renewed his grip on the chair. Barely keeping himself contained, he glared daggers as Takeda jerked the gag out of Kagome's mouth and let it hang loose around her neck. A groan slipped out with it, but whether it was from pain or from being so rudely torn from blissful unconsciousness, he couldn't be certain. She lifted her head and groggily opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

"Inu…yasha?"

It was the first word from her lips and it was just about the only thing keeping him grounded as he surveyed the damage. Scent told him it was her, but without it he might never have recognized the woman staring back at him. Her face looked like a painter's pallet – blues and purples intermingled with greens, yellows and hints of red. He noted the dried blood that'd accumulated around what appeared to be a split bottom lip and the finger-sized impressions along her jaw. His eyes travelled from feature to feature, internalizing whatever he saw. Each new bruise and cut only served to increase the rage broiling inside of him until it burned away, leaving only a calm, detached sense of purpose in its place.

"Did you do that to her?" he asked quietly, not really caring if Takeda answered or not. The bastard had the audacity to smile.

"Do you like my handiwork Detective? I think it's a remarkable improvement."

Inuyasha spat the foul taste those words left in his mouth to the side and leaned forward. "I'm gonna make you regret that," he promised.

Takeda flinched, if only briefly, before composing himself. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Detective. Besides, we've just arrived at our feature event of the night – Show and Tell!"

A quiet sob escaped Kagome's throat to fill the silence that fell between them. "I'm so sorry. Inuyasha… For dragging you into this-I."

"You never know when you shut up do ya?"

He heard her gasp but ignored it. With a muffled 'keh' he crossed his arms and collapsed back against his chair. "You didn't drag me into anythin'. Whatever's goin' on here ain't your fault so you can stop with the Kagome pity party. Once I kill this bastard I'm takin' you home - end of story!"

Kagome wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. True, he had his faults, but in that moment she was just relieved that he was there at all. That was what made his words so hard to stomach. If he knew the truth would he still say such things? Would he be so determined to save her if he realized what she'd done? What she was?

He was never supposed to know. It'd been her burden to carry and she'd carried it all this time without complaint. Tonight though, the precariously happy existence she'd spent years constructing was about come crashing down around her like a house of cards.

From the dark, mirthless chuckles echoing in her ear she knew Naraku had planned this from the start. He would expose her for what she truly was and after that, whatever she and Inuyasha had once shared would be permanently broken. He'd never be able to look at her the same way, not after that. She was terrified to her bones imaging what it would be like to see nothing but loathing reflected back at her in his amber eyes. Once he knew she'd become either the killer or the victim and neither title was one she particularly wanted to wear.

Taking a deep breath, she stared at him from behind her swollen eyelids and took in every last vestige of warmth and comfort she could from his presence. After tonight she'd have to learn to live without it. That was, of course, if she made it out alive at all.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," crooned Naraku's oil-slick voice from behind her in response to Inuyasha's determine declaration. His taunting barb sent panic, swelling like the tide, through her chest. She feebly tried to shake her head 'No', but the fistful of hair he had in his grip held her fast.

"Bear with me, just a few moments longer, while I tell you a story." He paused for dramatic effect and clamped his hand down on her injured shoulder, squeezing the bruised flesh as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

"Change of plans," he announced. "I think someone else should tell this story, someone who was there, someone who lived it in the flesh." She could hear the smile in his voice and knew it was one full of mockery and taunt. He wouldn't stop until he'd destroyed her completely, in every way possible.

"Go on, Kagome," he said quietly, "Tell him what you did."

A meek "No" was mumbled from behind her swollen lips as she shook her head. Fresh tears made their way down her cheeks and dribbled into her mouth. The salt water stung the open cut on her lip but she barely noticed. Her mind was too preoccupied, filled with panic and fear.

"This is no time to get shy, Kagome! Why don't you share your dirty secret with us?"

Her body was shaking and her head was pounding with all the mercy of a jackhammer drilling into concrete.

"I'll never-," she began to protest, but he didn't give her the chance. The back of his hand found her cheek and her head whipped to the side from the force of the blow. His fingers were in her hair again, twisting, pulling, causing more pain. She could feel his mouth next to her cheek, feel the dampness of his lips against her skin as he spoke.

"You're going to tell him about that night and don't you dare leave out a single detail. I want our dear friend the Detective to know exactly what kind of traitorous bitch he's been fucking!"

Even with her eyes closed she could feel him turn his attention to Inuyasha. It didn't matter what she said now. He had every intention of destroying her before she even got the first word out. Opening her eyes slowly, she could do nothing but helplessly watch Inuyasha's expression as the truth she'd hoped to keep buried forever spilled from Naraku's lips.

"Judging by that look on your face I'll wager she hasn't told you a thing. Not surprising really given her nature. Women are such worthless, untrustworthy creatures. You'll be better off the sooner you figure that out."

Naraku nodded his head in Inuyasha's direction with a sense of camaraderie, as though he was doling out advice to an acquaintance instead of a captive. After a moment of reflective silence, he jerked the hand that was still buried in her hair hard enough to make her gasp in pain. Holding her prisoner, he glared down at her as he spoke, his eyes tempered by a cool hatred. Even his voice was deadly calm, calmer than the sea after a tempest.

"She used a butcher knife. Gutted him like a fucking fish. She was gracious enough to let him bleed out all over her kitchen floor. My brother gave her _everything_ and that was how she repaid him!"

The silence hanging between the three of them was deafening. Kagome stared at Inuyasha. Naraku stared at Inuyasha. Inuyasha stared at Kagome. His was the only expression that remained unreadable.

"Do you want to know the best part, Detective?"

Naraku's voice lowered to a whole new level of dark and menacing. The sound of it scraped against the back of her mind and sent shivers down her spine. If she had to give revenge a voice… Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the cool touch of a gun's metal barrel graze the skin of her cheek.

"She thought she got away with it."

xXx

_September 24, 2002_

The apartment was quiet but for the rhythmic movements of her kitchen knife against the wooden cutting board.

_Chop. Chop. Chop._

With a sweep of her hand a pile of diced scallions was tossed into the pot bubbling to life on the stove. While she reached for a stalk of fresh leeks her eyes caught sight of the rivulets of rain water making their way down the kitchen window. It'd been raining for days without stopping. The drum of it on the pavement outside had become such a constant presence that she hardly noticed it anymore. The city was sopping wet to the core: muggy, waterlogged and sticky, leaving tempers short all around.

Oniguomo was no exception.

Tearing her gaze from the window, Kagome pursed her lips and diced the leeks a bit quicker than she had the scallions. She was making leek and potato soup from one of her Mom's old recipe books. It was comfort food, warm and homey. Right now, she needed all the comfort she could get. The faint, tangy smell of the scallions wafted up to greet her from the pot and she eagerly breathed them in. Something about the aroma they gave off as they cooked left her throat tingling in a way that felt warm and familiar.

With a swish of the knife across the cutting board, she deposited the leeks into the pot as well. She watched them bob about like ocean booie's on the water's surface before they were pulled under. They only needed a few more minutes, just enough to soften up. After setting the timer on the stove she set to work peeling the pile of potatoes strewn about the counter in front of her.

She'd just sliced into the first one of the bunch when a tingle of awareness crept up her spine. The knife paused and she lifted her eyes to the rain beaten window. All the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end. She knew what it meant, the ominous presence that'd suddenly filled the room gave it away, but for a brief moment she tried to brush the feeling off as nothing more than paranoia. It didn't matter though, because she knew better. She'd learned to recognize the signs long ago.

The clock hanging over the doorway ticked loudly, announcing each second as it passed. He waited five infinitely long ticks before speaking.

"I've missed you, Kagome."

She pulled in a deep breath and resisted the urge to shudder as the sound of his languid drawl washed over her. Dealing with him was never easy, especially now that she knew what he was capable of. After taking a moment to gather her resolve, she turned and fixed him with a hard glare.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, impressed by the strength of her own voice.

He gazed at her from the doorway where he'd propped himself against the frame with one arm. His other hand was buried somewhere deep in his pocket, most likely playing with the silver zippo that tended to linger there. He was wearing his usual attire – dress slacks and a designer shirt. Tonight's pick was black with a mauve coloured silk tie. He was scum but even she couldn't deny that the man knew how to dress.

Seemingly un-phased by her abrupt greeting, he loosened his tie slowly and invited himself in. "Come now Kagome, don't be like that. I know you've missed me too."

Making a sound of disgust in the back of her throat, she turned her back to him and resumed noisily chopping the potato into cubes.

"I want you to leave."

He ignored her acidic remark and sidled up behind her. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he used the other to move the hair hanging down across her back to the side. His lips felt scorching hot against the skin of her neck and she heard him chuckle quietly at the way her motions with the knife faltered.

She was slowly coming to the realization that no matter what she did she would never be free from him. He controlled everyone who worked for him, every detail of their lives, and now he controlled her too. She hated him for it and herself for letting it happen. Every part of her was sickened by the thought of him touching her and yet she couldn't find the strength to move away.

He was most dangerous when he was like this – feigning calm indifference. It was times like this, when he used that sweet, placating tone of voice, that she walked away with the deepest bruises. She swallowed thickly and her body stiffened in his embrace. She had to tread carefully or risk unleashing the monster inside of him.

"Please go. I don't want you here."

He let out a quiet chuckle and slid his hands from her waist. She was naïve enough to breathe a sigh of relief. After all that time, she really should have known better. He spun her around so fast the knife and cutting board went clattering to the floor. He had her back pressed against the counter top, the edge of it digging into her spine as his fingers dug into her arms.

"You haven't been returning my calls. Did you think you could just walk away from me?" he demanded, his expression as vicious as his tone.

She'd known this day would come eventually but that didn't mean she was ready for it. She was left questioning why she'd ever listened to the wisdom of her friends, the ones who convinced her to leave him after seeing one too many bruises and hearing one too many lame excuses. They didn't know him like she did. They didn't know what he was capable of. These past few weeks she'd been operating on borrowed time.

The confident assurances of her friends that he would 'never hurt her again' taunted her as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. Her hands clasped round his wrists in a vain attempt to pry loose his hold but it was of little help. Overpowering her easily, he sneered as he pulled her close until their faces were nearly touching. He took his time breathing her in, ghosting the tip of his nose across her cheek when she turned her face away.

"Did you actually think someone else would want you? Did you think that you'd be better off without me, Kagome?"

His lips caressed the shell of her ear just before her elbow met the unforgiving linoleum of the kitchen floor. Pain ricocheted up her arm as she clutched it to her chest with a whimper. He stood over her, hands on his hips, while he gloated. He loved to watch her writhe and grimace, anything that spoke to him of the pain he'd successfully inflicted upon her.

"You are _nothing_ without me," he reminded her as he so often did. It was his favourite line these days. "You're so pathetic it makes me sick just to look at you."

The tears were already welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. One slipped out and dripped onto her hand. Everything he said was right. She was pathetic. She was weak and useless. Even in a situation like this, knowing that he would probably kill her, she couldn't lift a finger to defend herself. The only thing worse than hearing him say she was nothing was hearing the voice inside her head whisper in agreement that he was right.

She barely had a chance to catch her breath before he was on top of her, pinning her to the floor as he straddled her hips. She managed a screamed, bucked against him, struck out at him with her fists only to meet empty air. As easily as if he were containing the tantrum of a toddler, he imprisoned her wrists and tucked her hands between his knees and the floor. As she struggled to free herself she noticed that somewhere in between he'd tossed his tie to the side, unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. He was in it for the long haul it seemed.

Her head reeled as the first blow slammed it into the floor. Fists were still his favourite weapon of choice.

"No one walks away from me Kagome," he levelled, catching her chin between his fingers so she was forced to meet his gaze. "Not you, not anyone. You don't leave until I decide I'm done with you."

"Stop this," she pleaded while still trying to manoeuvre out from under him.

He studied her a moment and then laughed. It was then that she understood his reason for coming. He'd come to kill her. It didn't matter what she said or did now, his mind was made up from the moment he walked through her door. She could see the truth in the cold glint of his dark eyes - he wasn't going to leave without making sure she was dead.

"Do you know what happens to disobedient pets Kagome?"

She struggled against him with increased fervour and screamed in between sobs, hoping to God that one of her nosey neighbours would hear and call the Police. He seemed to enjoy the display, even chuckled a little as he sat back to watch her meagre attempts to fight him off.

"Oh? So you do know. That's good - saves me the trouble of explaining it."

The next strike was a sharp blow from the back of his hand across her cheek. It stunned her just long enough for him to wrap his hands around her throat. Her eyes widened at the pressure and she could feel her face getting hot. He was serious this time. The determined look in his eyes was terrifying. There was no sympathy there, no mercy or love. He was nothing more than a monster – a heartless, dark-eyed monster wearing the face of the man she'd once loved.

Her back arched and her heels dug into the floor as her body struggled to pull in oxygen. She clawed at his wrists, gouging his skin until she could feel the stickiness of his blood beneath her fingernails, but he didn't even flinch. He felt no pain. He felt no fear. It seemed like nothing on earth would dissuade him from his goal.

It didn't take long for her flailing body to weaken. Her hands fell limp at her sides as her eyelids drooped. Even her lips continued to move, opening and closing like a fish's as though through will alone she could suddenly breathe once more. It was strange how in a moment like that, with violence all around her, all she felt was calm. A sense of acceptance washed over her as she thought to herself that death didn't seem so bad. Her world had grown quiet. In that space, whatever it was, there was just her. She seriously considered staying, embraced by the comforting darkness of the void where she was safe from harm and free of pain, but then something happened.

It was in that very same moment, when she was considering giving in, that her hand found the handle of the knife. She'd forgotten it was there completely, but as her fingers slowly wrapped around the cool hard plastic of the handle it became her new source of hope. It gave her the strength to admit that she wasn't ready to die yet. There were so many things she still had left to accomplish. There were too many dreams she still had to live out. Who was he to determine when it was her time to go?

She felt anger like she'd never felt in her life rise up through her. Her eyes narrowed and she fixed him with a dark look that could've rivalled his. He lifted an eyebrow at her sudden defiance. He seemed impressed, if not a little bit amused. Amusement melted into shock once his gaze fell to the knife embedded six inches into his side. His hands fell away from her neck to hover around the knife handle while his eyes stared down at it in disbelief.

As the shock wore away his balance faltered, sending him crashing clumsily into the table. She weakly turned her head to watch him while her body sucked in greedy gasps of air. He was staring at her, his expression a mixture of shock, disbelief and anger. A part of her was relieved to see that there was fear in his eyes. He was scared to die. Well, at least they were finally on the same page about something.

Ever so slowly, she pushed her body upright and used the counter to pull herself to her feet. Her head was swimming but she moved with purpose to the stove and turned the element off. The water had long since evaporated from the pot and the vegetables were a mushy mess at the bottom.

_So much for Mom's homemade leek and potato soup._

It was a long time before she had the courage to turn around and look at what she'd done. Her body slowly lowered itself to the floor and she sat with the cupboards at her back and her knees hugged into her chest. Enrapt, she watched as the glistening pool of crimson slowly crept across her kitchen floor to devour it whole.

With her head resting against the cupboard door, she massaged the finger shaped bruises forming on her neck. Her throat hurt too much to cry so she watched him in silence instead. Visions of old horror films where the villain suddenly revives themselves to kill again flashed through her mind. She stared long and hard at his dead eyes. They stared unblinking at the floor, fixed and dilated.

There was something she was supposed to do. She glanced up at the portable phone hanging off the edge of the kitchen table, but couldn't convince her body to move. Her eyes fell to his body once more and her ears rang with the silence that weighed down the room. She hugged her knees in tight to her chest and curled her toes to keep the blood from reaching the tips of her white socks.

As she stared at him in the hours that followed, she realized there wasn't a single part of her that regretted what she'd done.

Not one.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Wow, talk about a long break! Sorry guys! What a ridiculous amount of time to wait for a new chapter. I really do apologize. Thank you to all of you who have kept tabs on LSR during the long waits. And much thanks to those loyal readers who've been voting for LSR in the IYFG and FA Awards! Your support means so much to me :) Because of that, this chapter is dedicated to you.

Next chapter should be out soon-ish. It's almost done, just a little bit left to write. Please feel free to leave a review on your way out :)

Much love,

Langus


	22. The Titan Falls

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 22

- The Titan Falls -

_A/N: Hold on to your butts…_

"Son of a bitch…"

Kouga muttered a string of foul curses under his breath as he made his way along the worn docks of the pier. The iron grip he had on his side arm was unbreakable, but that couldn't keep the damp cold from sending a shiver through his bones. He hated Tokyo winters. Temperature wise they were relatively mild, but once the damp air from the sea washed ashore it soaked into your skin in a way that just didn't quit. He'd never felt a cold as deep and aching as that.

_Figures they'd pick the docks, _he thought with a sour look. He'd already gagged twice from the smell. Typical choice for yakuza scum. For the moment, it wasn't them he was concerned with. The padlocked door of the third storehouse along the dock had caught his eye. He could smell the mutt's scent in the air. Inuyasha had definitely been here, and recently too.

Stepping in close to the wall, he kept his back to the metal sheeting and scanned the dock in either direction. He could sense their presence. Of course he wasn't alone, and hadn't been since the moment he'd stepped out of his car. He could feel their eyes watching him almost as much as he could smell the subtle odour of their sweat, cheap cologne, and the scent of what'd they'd eaten for dinner on their breath.

His brow furrowed with frustration as he scanned the rooftops of the storehouses on the opposite side of the dock. His keen sense of smell had kept him alive on more than a few occasions, but it was an absolute liability to him now. He could smell them, sure, but the pungent aromas of the ocean all around him confused his senses. He couldn't pin point where they were, or even how close. He just knew that they were there, and that there were more than a few of them around. More than he could handle on his own. He swore again and cursed the mutt for dragging him into this.

His life would be a whole lot easier if Kagome Higurashi had never walked into it. He'd tried to put his emotions on the back burner for this case, but the closer they got to finding her the harder it became. It was impossible to forget the way she'd smelled the first day he met her on the precinct steps. And he remembered all too clearly the softness of her skin as she'd placed her hand in his and the allure of her dark eyes when she'd subtly flirted with him. There was no sense trying to fight the attraction, or deny it for that matter. He understood what drove the mutt now, because in some way the same feeling drove him too. They'd find her in time because they had too, there simply wasn't any other option.

Thinking about it, he realized that there was no denying the change the girl had brought about in the mutt too. Inuyasha Takahashi - the impenetrable fortress - had finally been penetrated. For a while there he'd started to look alive again for the first time in years, and that was something worth saving. Though, the bastard might not live long after tonight if he had his way. He was still fuming about the incident at the park.

Muttering another curse, Kouga slipped discretely into the shadow of the building and made his way around the back side to the loading dock door. The mutt's smell was stronger here, more recent. It was obvious he'd taken this same path and as Kouga scanned the exterior of the building he wondered if he was still inside. He stopped outside the door that was left ajar and cast a discreet glance over his shoulder. He could feel them hovering, waiting. The question was, what were they waiting for? What was supposed to happen now?

His mouth turned down into a frown as he fished the cell phone out of his pocket and sent off a quick text message. With any luck the others would arrive in time. At this point he didn't give a shit what Takahashi wanted – he wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks or chances. He shuffled a little closer to the open door, gun still drawn, and tucked the cell phone into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Pausing at the threshold of the door, he checked himself and pulled in a deep breath.

_Bingo_.

The rich, coppery tang of her blood was thick in the air and knew without a doubt that the mutt had followed it inside. It was almost as though it'd been laid out – a perfect trap to lure him in.

Taking another deep breath, Kouga emptied his lungs slowly and composed himself.

_And so, the lamb enters the lion's den…_, he thought, and then crossed the threshold into the impenetrable darkness on the other side.

xXx

2276 days.

That was how long he'd waited for this moment.

He breathed in the scent of her fear and let his eyes drift closed as he savoured the exhilarating rush it sent through his veins. Homer's promise that revenge tasted sweeter than honey echoed in his mind, ringing with a certain modicum of truth. He smiled to himself. This revenge, the planning of which had consumed his every waking thought for half a decade, was far more potent and satisfying than the flowery sweetness of honey on one's tongue.

_This_ revenge was ecstasy. It seeped into every pore, filled every vein and invaded every last crevice in his brain with a pleasure that couldn't be matched by even the purest shot of heroin. Thousands of men the world over had killed in pursuit of revenge before him, but he wondered if any had felt the same euphoria he did now. There was nothing to rival it, nothing whatsoever, and he was satisfied knowing that his efforts had not gone to waste.

Some had dared to question his resolve over the years. Some had even gone so far as to condemn him for devoting so much of his time and resources to finding one troublesome girl. Those vocal few had paid for their words with their lives; the rest had been wise enough to keep their thoughts to themselves. There was nothing in the world that could've kept him from this moment, except maybe death.

Here it was within his grasp, vivid and real; tangible and absolutely, in every part, his to embrace. And he _would_ embrace it. He would take his time breaking her before he killed her. It was a process he would thoroughly enjoy and one he was glad the good detective was present for. Breaking her would be so much easier with him present. He'd tear the man apart, piece by piece, and watch as every last vestige of hope faded from her eyes. And when the time came, in the moment when she finally accepted that there was no one left to save her, he would wrap his hands around her narrow throat and squeeze until the light in her dark eyes was permanently extinguished.

His hand on her shoulder twitched with anticipation, eager to feel the frantic pulse of her last heartbeats against its palm. Instead, he grazed his fingertips along her throat and revelled in the quickening of her pulse at his touch.

A quiet growl from the detective drew his eyes upwards and he couldn't help but snicker. The poor bastard was sitting ramrod straight in his chair with his hands wrapped round the seat in a futile attempt to control his aggressive impulses. Were it not for the gun, the man would've already launched himself across the space between them to forcefully pry his hands off the girl.

_Detective Takahashi – what a basal creature_, he thought with a sentiment of disgust.

His coal black eyes scanned the detective's dishevelled appearance with an expert attention to detail, noting the bags under his eyes and the facial hair shadowing his jaw. He looked rough. He looked like a man who was barely whole; who struggled daily just to keep the parts of him that were there from slipping away. Such a pitiful sight…

He didn't need to wonder about the closeness of his relationship to the girl – it was written all over his face. From the anger swimming in his amber eyes to the anxious way his body shifted in its seat, every part of him spoke loud and clear, screaming out exactly how important the whore was to him. He'd tried to feint that she was no one special - that she was only as important to him as any other hostage would be - but the truth was painfully obvious. He loved her.

It was a disappointing revelation, to put it mildly. He'd expected better from the detective, but then, the girl did have a certain knack for sinking her talons into unsuspecting men's hearts. He almost pitied the poor bastard, but tonight there was no room in his heart for mercy.

Wearing a feral smile, he deliberately grazed his lips along the shell of the whore's ear and waited for his reaction. The chair creaked and another growl escaped from the bowels of the detective's chest. His jaw was clenching and unclenching, working overtime to stymie the string of curses and threats that wanted to escape his lips. All in an effort to keep from betraying how important she truly was to him. What a joke.

"Temper, temper, Detective. Squeeze any harder and that chair will fall to pieces," he warned, his tone underwritten by a playful lilt.

Takahashi's eyes narrowed but his hands eased up all the same as though he'd only just become aware of them. He sat back against the chair and pulled in a quiet, calming breath. He seemed in control of himself when he crossed his arms in front of his chest and levelled a cold glare.

"You're full of shit," he determined, speaking louder than was necessary.

"Am I?"

He'd expected that defiant little outburst. The truth was staring the detective in the face, yet he'd rather defend the girl, believing her utterly incapable of murder. There was a glimmer of doubt in his eyes though, even as he'd said those self-assured words. Stubborn as he was, he knew truth when he heard it. It was another thing entirely to accept it.

Accepting it would mean breaking down every pedestal he'd ever placed her on. It would mean re-evaluating all that he knew about her and their relationship. Accepting the truth was far more difficult than simply shutting your eyes to it and blindly clinging to the fallacy.

The lie is easy; truth is what's hard to live with. Truth brings pain and suffering. Truth crushes hope and love and dreams of a happy future. Tonight, the truth would be the detective's greatest enemy, just as it was hers.

_Did you really think you could hide from it forever, my sweet Pandora?_ he wondered while studying her profile with a careful eye. He followed the movements of her tongue as it darted out to lick at the blood on her split lip. Beneath his hand her frame trembled. It didn't matter anymore whether it was from pain, or fear, or a combination of the two. What mattered was how much further he could push her beyond this point and how much pleasure her suffering would bring him.

A shot of malice surged through his thoughts and he tightened his hand over her injured shoulder, hard enough to make her gasp. The satisfaction he got from that one, minute cry of weakness was immediate. Feeling empowered by her pain, he regarded the detective with a hard, calculating look.

"You disappoint me, Detective. I must admit, I expected better from you. Are you telling me you never once did a background check on her?"

He clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Shut up."

The bitterness underlying the detective's retort was all the incentive he needed to pour more salt in the wound. How far could he push him? How long would it take before the link between him and the girl was broken?

"I bet you wish you could go back," he taunted, sounding sympathetic.

"Just think - If you'd only known the truth about her all those months ago! How much time have you wasted believing her lies? How much pain has she caused you – this _Pandora_ – this _curse_ on all mankind! She's made a fool out of you, Detective, and now she's dragged you down with her."

The girl whimpered pitifully and shook her head from side to side in a futile attempt to deny the validity of his words. She knew. The way her shoulders had begun to sag wasn't from exhaustion, but from the weight of her own guilt. He ran the barrel of the gun along the side of her cheek in a gentle caress, silently promising he would soon release her from her burden.

Fixated, he listened as she held her breath while he made another pass with the gun down the length of her face. The audible gulp that sounded from her throat made him smile.

"I said shut up. You don't know what you're talkin' about."

The detective's voice drew his attention away from his prize once more. He was starting to find the man annoying. He'd expected their little _tête-à-tête_ to be entertaining, but each time he spoke it only seemed to pull him further and further from his goal. It was hard to hide the irritation in his voice when he spoke.

"Answer me this, Detective - When I killed that girl, Kikyou, did you make a promise to avenge her?"

The expression on the Detective's face visibly darkened. "Yes," he rasped out, suddenly seething with anger at the reminder of her brutal execution.

"Did you want to kill me for taking her life? An eye for an eye?"

"I figured I'd let my conscience be my guide where her killer was concerned. Now that you're here, all I can say is you're lucky that gun's in your hand instead of mine."

"Then we're not so different, you and I," he conceded, cocking the gun. "I, too, made a promise."

The Detective's body visibly tensed in the chair, much to his satisfaction. Smile unwavering, he asked, "What would you do if you were in _my_ shoes, I wonder?"

_I'd kill you._

The silent admission was written clearly across his features, as was the guilt that followed it. It was hard to be righteous when the shoe was on the other foot. Watching the Detective's expression morph from guilt, to confusion, to understanding in the seconds that followed was immensely entertaining.

"My point, exactly."

The Detective's amber eyes widened with shock as he realized that he was the one now staring down the barrel of a gun.

Victorious, Naraku smiled and fired.

xXx

BANG!

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as his body was thrown from the chair. Snippets and fragments of awareness were all that made it to his mind - Kagome's stricken features, the smoking end of the gun, the ringing in his ears, the smell of gunpowder in his nostrils, and the awful stench of blood.

At first he thought Kagome had been shot. Her scream had been filled with enough anguish that he just couldn't fathom any other reason for it. He lay with his back against the floor, blinking quietly at the ceiling while he collected his thoughts. He'd failed another woman he loved. Talk about a screw up. He was a real piece of work – apparently he couldn't protect a woman to save his own life. The irony of that statement almost made him smile.

He blinked up at the hand in front of his eyes and stared at the blood covering it, wondering how he could've possibly injured himself. Then, as the shock wore off, realization struck. The bastard had shot him.

Well, so much for keeping things predictable.

Uttering a pained groan, he put a hand to his injured shoulder and slowly rolled into a sitting position. His head was already spinning as the blood from his wound gushed against his hand. He blinked to bring the room into focus and shook his head a little, but neither helped much. Everything was still blurry around the edges and his damned ears wouldn't stop ringing. Experience told him they'd be ringing for a better part of the next week. As if he needed another reason to be pissed off right now.

Determined and annoyed, he sucked in a sharp breath and dragged himself to his feet. Feeling a bit unsteady, he fixed his eyes on Takeda and growled.

"Takes a certain kind of coward to shoot an unarmed man," he muttered and struggled to stand up straighter.

Takeda responded with a bored look. Sighing, he cocked the gun and aimed it at him a second time.

"You think I give a damn what your opinion of me is? It's time you learned your place. You were a corpse the moment you stepped onto my pier. Did you really think that the absence of guards outside was a stroke of luck?"

He barked out a sharp, humourless laugh. "I've had every detail of this encounter planned from the beginning and you've played right into my hand, each and every time."

Inuyasha growled quietly and waited uneasily for his opportunity to strike. As annoying as it was to hear his incessant gloating, he needed the bastard to keep talking. The longer his lips flapped, the more time he had to figure out how to disarm him without getting Kagome killed.

"Explain this to me then, 'cause I'm havin' some trouble understanding your logic. She's the one who killed your brother but you're takin' shots at me. Did you get confused somewhere along the way?"

Takeda sighed again and rolled his eyes as though he were dealing with a petulant child.

"Detective, Detective… When exacting revenge, you always dig two graves."

He held up two fingers and pointedly counted them down as he spoke. "The first is for the one who offended you, and the second is for the person they care for most in the world."

_So that was it…_, he acknowledged quietly to himself. _Scum sucking bastard!_

Leave it to a yakuza Boss to double the score and call it even. This was exactly why smart people didn't mess with them. There was no getting out of it once it got personal. The motto was even the odds or die trying, and here he'd walked right into the middle of it. He might as well have painted a giant target on his back and called it a day.

He frowned and shifted his attention to Kagome. She looked gaunt and pale, but most of all tired. Her eyes pleaded with him, looking so dark and wounded that his stomach twisted with guilt when he looked away. There was nothing he could say to comfort her or alleviate her fears. They were in deep shit – no doubt about it. The best he could do was offer her a tentative smile. With the blood from his shoulder now dripping loudly off his fingertips onto the floor, the gesture seemed to bring her little comfort.

"Why now?" he asked, determined to stall for as long as possible.

"I mean, you've had five years to kill her. Why wait? Why didn't you go after her once you realized you'd killed the wrong girl?"

Takeda's eyes narrowed into slits. "I was busy," he bit out, his voice filled with venom.

"Too busy take revenge against the woman who killed your brother?" Inuyasha retorted with a lift of his eyebrow.

When Takeda went silent, he offered up another question, eager to see if his hunch was right.

"If you'd gotten it right the first time, all your problems would've been solved ages ago. How the hell did you screw that up so badly anyway? Sure they share a few similarities in the look department, but I'd hardly call her and Kikyou twins. Are you really that incompetent?"

"You should know a thing or two about incompetence," was the cool response.

The calm, collected demeanour behind Takeda's tone didn't match the dark look that'd taken over his features. Inuyasha smiled to himself, satisfied that he'd hit a nerve. He was willing to bet the bastard had spent the better part of the last decade living outside of Japan, experiencing the hospitality of a foreign prison. It wasn't uncommon for yakuza, just inconvenient when you're trying to plan a revenge killing.

"I grow bored of these games, Detective, so I'm going to offer you a choice."

"A choice?"

"Head, chest, or gut? Or perhaps you'd prefer dealer's pick?"

So this was it. Stalling for more time, he fixed him with a cold look and replied, "I don't particularly like any of those options. You got anything else to offer?"

Takeda chuckled humourlessly and shook his head. "Sorry, no. What will it be?"

_Where the hell is Kouga?_

It wasn't the first thought Inuyasha expected to pop into his mind, but then, his mind tended not to work in an orthodox fashion. He glared darkly at the bastard's smug expression and envisioned slashing it to pieces. The thought offered him little comfort.

He'd run out of time.

He was no good in these kinds of situations. His temper was too short and he didn't do well with people – and that was on a good day. Never mind a high stress standoff situation where the girl he cared for more than anyone was possibly minutes away from death. This was Kouga's area of expertise. That certain element of charm he possessed and his enviable smooth talking ways made him the top hostage negotiator in all Tokyo Prefecture – not a single life lost under his watch.

Those odds would've been comforting had he bothered to show his face.

Inuyasha strained his ears, listening for any sounds from outside that could give him hope, but all he could hear were the rhythmic crashes of the waves against the pier stilts. Without Kouga, he was utterly fucked. He lifted his gaze to meet Kagome's tortured expression and felt his stomach sink to the floor. Correction – if Kouga didn't show, they were both fucked.

He'd been so sure that he would follow. All he'd needed was a head start, just enough time to convince Takeda he'd come alone. The plan had worked, so far so good, but it would all fall to pieces if Kouga didn't show. He'd been relying on his negotiating skills to talk Kagome out of this, at least enough to get her out of harm's way. What happened after that didn't matter, just as long as she was safe.

He resisted the urge to glance back over his shoulder at the door on the balcony. Even one look would give him away. Takeda wasn't stupid and his eyes missed nothing – the yakuza were notorious for being meticulous. Frustrated, he growled softly, a low sound in his throat and wondered what the hell the hold up was. Didn't Kouga realize how short on time she was? No… probably not. Even he hadn't thought it would be this bad. He'd never thought…

He stared a moment into her tear-filled eyes, their watery depths silently pleaded with him for understanding, and felt his gaze drop to the floor. _Why didn't she tell me?_

The question hung in the air between them, silent and ominous. He listened quietly to her shaky breaths and near silent sobs. She was probably desperate for him to say something. Perhaps she was waiting for him to reassure her in a calm voice that everything was okay and he was going to get her out of this.

Instead, like the bastard that he was, he said nothing and looked away, not quite sure how he was supposed to feel. His mind was still processing, going over the facts one by one as it tried to come to grips with the "truth". The truth changed everything.

He would've given anything to be back at the precinct so he could look her up in the system. He'd never bothered to before, convinced that nothing about her hinted at a dark and dirty past. And even if he'd had his suspicions that she had a few skeletons of her own hidden away, in his wildest dreams they'd never amounted to something of this calibre.

Kagome, kill a man? And not just any man, but a yakuza Boss's brother?

It seemed impossible, even laughable. Had he not seen stranger things during his time on the force he wouldn't have believed it at all. But the truth was that he had. He'd seen mothers drown their children in a fit of depression. He'd met more than a few "good boys" who'd raped innocent young girls. He'd watched, helpless, as a man threw himself and his toddler in front of the speeding subway train. He'd seen a lot of unfathomable things, which was why his logical mind accepted Takeda's words more easily than they might have and any protests of the emotional kind were silenced.

She'd… killed someone. And she hadn't said a word.

His eyes slowly lifted from the floor and trailed up her bruised and dirtied body until they came to rest on her face. The drum of his heartbeat in his ears was so loud that it blocked everything else out. Even if she'd tried to explain just then, he didn't think it would matter.

In the silence, he searched her eyes for the answers to his questions and found something else instead, or rather, a lack of it. There was no remorse. There was pain and torment and fear, but not a speck of guilt. That shocked him, probably more than it should have, and as he felt himself pull away from her he realized that this story was not a fabrication from a disturbed sociopath's mind. She'd done exactly what Takeda had said she'd done and he found that a difficult pill to swallow.

The only question left hanging was probably the most important – Why? What had Takeda's brother done to drive her so far into a corner that she thought her only way out was murder? He had a few theories already forming in his mind, and judging what he knew of Naraku Takeda he probably wasn't far off the mark, but that wasn't the answer that had him taking a wounded, figurative step backward.

He read the defeat in her eyes, even as his own communicated to her all the things he couldn't bring himself to say aloud.

_How do you share a bed with someone and never tell them something like that?_ they asked.

_I trusted you completely, that night I told you I was a hanyou, and you couldn't trust me with this? _

The truth hurt in more ways than one. From her dejected expression she understood just how bad this was for them. No matter what happened after tonight, things would never be the same. She'd killed a man and Kikyou had paid the price with her life – her innocent life. His own words, the vow of revenge that he'd made while sitting alongside Kikyou's corpse, tauntingly echoed back to him.

In what way was he different from the man standing before him now? He'd meant every word of that vow when he'd made it and Takeda had made a similar one. The look of determination on his face said it all. He'd set all of this up for a reason, lured him here so that he could understand why he wanted her dead.

He hadn't expected to wind up in this position. Five minutes ago he would've taken the first chance he got to put a bullet between the bastard's eyes, but now...

If their roles were reversed, what would he do?

"So, what'll it be Detective?"

Naraku's cold voice cut cruelly through his heavy thoughts. He scowled at the hollow end of the gun and narrowed his eyes at the face of the man holding it. There wasn't any other way this was going to end. He'd already lived through one near fatal gunshot wound. Contemplating the gun pointed at him, he wondered what the odds were that he could survive another.

_Hopefully good._

"Go to hell," he muttered, lowering his arm from his shoulder in preparation.

This was gonna hurt like hell.

xXx

BANG!

The sound of the second shot was as deafening as the first. He cringed reflexively and waited for the pain to ignite his insides. He waited one second, two seconds, three seconds...

No pain.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes and watched Naraku fire in the direction of the balcony. Kagome screamed and the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor echoed through the room. Seeing her stricken features, he could only assume it was Kouga. Stupid bastard had to go and get himself killed.

_Dammit!_

There was time to be angry and grieve about it later. For now, Naraku was distracted and it was all the opportunity he needed. Ignoring the jarring pain in his shoulder, he sprang forward catching him around the middle and tackling him to the floor.

The bastard tried to get his gun between them for one lucky shot but he wasn't fast enough. The impact of their bodies hitting the floor was enough to send the gun scattering across the floorboards. Naraku wasted no time reaching for the stolen piece he'd tucked into his belt and Inuyasha found himself in the unenviable position of once again having to struggle for his life.

They rolled across the floor in a grunting, cursing heap of flying fists. A part of him relished in the opportunity to give back some of the blows the bastard had dealt to Kagome. She was behind them now, probably still tied to the chair helpless, but he didn't have time to check on her. He was too busy avoiding fists (and sometimes, rather unfortunately, not avoiding them) while trying to get back his gun.

Kouga's loud curse from somewhere in the vicinity of the balcony caught his attention. He was alive? Luckily it caught Naraku's attention too and his momentary lapse in concentration was enough.

Swearing a foul curse of his own, Inuyasha managed to wrench the gun from his hands and sent it flying. He made sure to get in one last solid hit before he succumbed to the pain tearing through his shoulder and rolled away into a crouched position. Leave it to Kouga to wait until the very last possible second to save the day and be the hero. Gods – his shoulder was screaming at him! Screaming and throbbing and making his stomach churn.

Wearing a pained grimace, he pressed his hand hard into the wound to stay the bleeding and swallowed down the bile that'd risen into the back of his throat. He just hoped it was a through and through – nothing worse than having a bullet dug out of you, that was for damned sure.

He sent a dark glare Naraku's way, then hazarded a glance over his shoulder to check on Kagome. What he saw made him pale as a wave of dread sapped what was left of his strength.

Somehow during their struggle she'd managed to free herself from her bonds. The rope that'd been used to tie her hands dangled loosely from one wrist and the gag hung around her neck. Though her one arm was limp at her side from some injury he hadn't noticed before, the other held firm as it pointed Naraku's own gun at him.

For his part, Naraku looked genuinely surprised. Despite his expression, he was stretched out on the floor with his weight resting on his elbows as though he were lounging on the grass at a Sunday afternoon picnic. He fixed her with a hard look, one that was underwritten with nothing but derision and contempt.

"You don't have it in you," he determined evenly before sucking at his bloody lip and spitting a watery pool of crimson onto the floor beside him.

Without hesitating she cocked the trigger with a steady hand. "What was that? I didn't hear you the first time."

Her voice was strong and steady. She was terrified of his man, and for good reason, but not an ounce of it showed. As he watched her, Inuyasha realized he was proud of her, damn proud. Inside a part of him was dishing out 'whoops' and high fives, but outside he was all business. Quietly seething with pain, he rose unsteadily to his feet and fixed her with a stern look.

"Kagome."

He called to her in the most placating voice he could manage under the circumstances. "Give me the gun."

She didn't look at him, but there was a waver in her voice when she shot back just as surely, "I can't."

He was tempted to roll his eyes and sighed inwardly with exasperation. She picked a hell of a time to be her usual stubborn self. Typical Kagome though, always making things complicated. He took a second to gather his patience before trying again, this time taking a step towards her.

"Kagome, you need to give me the gun."

"Don't."

She was breaking. Her hand holding the gun trembled as her body shook. It must've taken every ounce of strength in her to stand after what she'd been through. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. She needed a doctor, any idiot could see that. She had to know it too, so why was she being so damn stubborn about it?

He took another step towards her, hand outstretched to take the gun from her. She shook her head.

"Please, don't come any closer," she begged without looking his way. "I won't let you stop me."

"Kagome-," he tried again, taking yet another small step. She rounded on him in an instant and he blinked bewildered at the weapon pointed at his chest. It wasn't the first time that day he'd stared down the barrel of a gun, but it was the first time one had ever been turned on him by someone he cared about. It was a new and entirely unwelcome experience.

Tears streamed down her mottled cheeks but there was determination burning in her eyes. She wasn't going to be persuaded easily.

"I swear to Kami, if you take one more step I'll…."

"You'll shoot me?" he finished, his voice ringing with disbelief.

Her eyes had the wild look of a trapped animal, one that was desperate to escape by any means possible. Not willing to push her when she was already unstable, he put his hands up in surrender and tried to stifle a wince when his shoulder burned in protest.

Her visage melted instantly into a look of sympathy. Her dark eyes flickered between the creeping blood stain on his shoulder and the patient expression in his eyes. She watched him just long enough to make sure he wasn't going to make any more moves towards her before her jaw set with determination and she turned the gun back on Naraku.

"Don't you understand? I _have_ to do this," she reasoned, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll never be free if I don't."

She was silent a moment, perhaps thinking over the scenario they all found themselves in before adding, "Besides, he _deserves _this. He's _earned_ the right to be shot like a dog and left to die in the gutter."

Inuyasha wasn't sure what to make of that particular analogy, being half-dog demon himself, but either way he didn't get the chance to respond. It was Kouga who spoke next, from much closer than before. While they'd been making nice, he'd crept his way toward them and now stood just off to the side of their little group.

Inuyasha took in his uninjured form and lifted an eyebrow. So if Kouga wasn't dead, then whose body had fallen from the balcony and hit the floor? He moved his head to look, but the movement of Kouga's gun caught his eye. Why was the bastard aiming at the wrong damned person?

"Kagome, I need ya to give the gun to Inuyasha. I don't wanna have to shoot ya," he pleaded in calming tones, even as he cocked his trigger.

_What the hell?_

He shot Kouga a dark look and snapped his attention back to Kagome so fast it made his head swim. She was shaking all over now - from the fear, from the pain, from the _hunger_. He knew desperation when he saw it and she was so dangerously close to going over the edge. All it would take was one wrong move and Naraku would have a bullet between the eyes and so would she. Like hell he was going to let that happen!

Ignoring her earlier warning, he moved in slowly until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her. The smell of her was overwhelming. He breathed her in greedily and took a moment to rest his forehead against the back of her head. Despite being held captive in this place for days on end, she still smelled so familiar that it made his heart ache. Gods, it felt good to be close to her again. Ever so slowly, he tightened his arms around her.

"For once, just listen to me."

She immediately stiffened in his embrace and he breathed a sigh of regret.

"You don't want to do this. You don't want his death on your hands. This kind of thing - it haunts a person." Her shoulders sagged and a quiet sob hiccupped in her throat.

"If you kill him, they'll hunt you down and they won't stop until they kill you. I can't protect you from all of them," he warned, sounding both apologetic and frustrated.

"So don't," she answered feebly.

"What?"

"It's useless anyway to try and protect me. Just look what's already happened! I thought I was free after…" She paused and he could smell the tears coming from her eyes. When she breathed out, her breath wavered in a quiet sob.

"And, well," she continued, "just look where we are now. It's never going to stop. I'm never going to be rid of him because he will always, _always_ be there waiting for me. He'll lie in wait until I forget how bad it was, until I forget how to be scared. He'll wait until I've lowered my guard enough to let someone into my heart and then… he'll…"

Her voice faltered, unable to finish her thought. Inuyasha's arms tightened fractionally around her.

"I'll keep you safe," he promised. "I won't let something like this happen to you again."

She smiled; a sad, worn looking expression. Her free hand lifted until her fingers hooked around the sleeve of his jacket, seeking comfort. They both knew he couldn't shield her from the world and she couldn't hide from it either.

"Thank you," she whispered, sounding sincere, "but you can't know that for sure. I don't want you involved in this. I don't want you to get hurt any more than you have."

"Damn it Kagome, stop being such a martyr! Trust me to take care of this for you. Let me deal with him."

He moved slowly, ghosting his hand down the length of her arm until it overlapped hers. He realized as he touched her that it was probably the first gentle caress she'd received all week and the thought didn't sit well with him. He gently pried the gun from her fingers and surprisingly she offered no resistance.

Breathing an inaudible sigh of relief, he planted a secret kiss against the back of her head and tucked the gun into his belt. He turned her slowly by the shoulders and studied the various bruises and cuts on her face. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes were dark and vulnerable when they lifted to meet his own.

There was so little of what he remembered of her left that he wasn't sure what to do, or say, to make it right. He didn't recognize this wounded person in front of him; this fragile thing. Sounding unsure he called to her gently, not giving a damn for the moment that the others were watching.

He combed a section of hair behind her ear in a tender gesture and held her face between his hands until her eyes lifted to meet his. Somehow, he thought, maybe if she could see that it was him standing there he'd be able to reach her wherever she was and bring her back.

"You're safe," he promised. "No one's ever gonna hurt you again."

"I've heard that one before."

Her acerbic remark caught him off guard. His brow furrowed as he thought out the best way to reassure her. How could he convince her that this time was different? Frowning, he held her gaze and shot back.

"This is me we're talkin' about. When've I ever lied to you?"

She closed her eyes and lifted her hands to enclose his wrists. Overwhelmed, she nodded as tears seeped out from beneath her swollen eyelids.

"Okay," she conceded, her voice cracking. "Okay."

Inuyasha pulled her to him and shared a look with Kouga over her shoulder. He nodded, understanding completely, and holstered his gun.

"I want you to go with Kouga," he urged, gently pulling her away from his chest. "He's gonna take you outside so you don't have to put up with the stink of this place any longer."

She nodded slowly, automatically, and stumbled forward into Kouga. He slipped a supportive arm around her waist and began to direct her towards the door. With a glance at her dishevelled attire, Inuyasha slipped off his blood stained jacket and held it out his partner.

"Here, put this on her. It's cold out."

"Yeah, and don't I fucking know it?" he shot back, rolling his eyes.

Inuyasha snickered and reminded himself that when all was said and done he owed the guy a drink, or a few. Maybe a trip to the nudie bar too. Truth be told, Kouga was about the only guy in the world he trusted to take care of her right now. After all these years, it seemed the guy had his uses after all.

He watched the slow moving pair like a hawk, his every sense on alert. He flinched when she suddenly collapsed near the door, next to the body on the floor. Kouga sent a confused look over his shoulder, silently asking who the guy was. Inuyasha shook his head just as confused. Frowning, Kouga turned back to her and scooped her up off the floor, not willing to waste any more time on her emotional outbursts.

Puzzled, Inuyasha's eyes switched from Kagome to the body on the floor until she was out of sight. Who the heck was that guy? With Kagome safe for the moment, he was free to turn his attention back to Naraku. The bastard had his eyes glued to Kagome's retreating form with a look that made even his toughened skin want to crawl.

There was something animalistic about the way he stared at her. It was like he wanted to devour her whole and savour every bite. His expression told him just about everything he needed to know. If he was allowed to live, Naraku would come after her again. And again. He would pursue her until she was dead, either by his hand or her own, and he had no intention of letting that happen.

When Kagome was finally out of sight, Naraku spared him a contemptuous glance.

"I pity the man who lets a woman stick his balls in a vice."

Ignoring the jab, Inuyasha walked to the far side of the room to retrieve his gun from the floor. He looked it over and ejected the clip to count the bullets.

"I pity the bastard who has to beat on a woman to feel like a man," he shot back evenly. Satisfied that his gun was in order, he rammed the clip back into place and cocked the trigger. The other gun he tossed to the floor and kicked in Naraku's general direction.

"I think you lost something," he pointed out with a nod.

Naraku scoffed at the piece but his eyes lingered on it greedily.

"The moment I touch that you're dead," he warned. "I'm not some spineless peon who shits his pants at the thought of killing a cop."

Inuyasha smiled. "Good. Let's see how big your balls really are. Pick up the gun."

It'd been a good long while since he'd been given the opportunity to have it out with a perp. There were so many rules to follow, so many lines he wasn't supposed to cross. Out here though, no one was watching. There was something so liberating in the knowledge that he could literally beat the bastard's face into an unrecognizable pulp and no one would stop him.

He knew what he _should_ do. The rulebook said he should haul the bastard in for the biggest collar of the year, book him and do everything legit. Perhaps if he was a patient man he might have. Hell, if he'd spent a single day of his life abiding by the rules he might have then too, but he was neither of those things.

Instead, he watched with a careful eye as Naraku Takeda, most intimidating yakuza Boss in all of Tokyo, stretched his hand out and pulled the gun towards him. Thinking he'd won, Naraku laughed as he levelled the gun and pulled the trigger.

_Click_.

It was so damn hard not to smile at the look of utter disbelief that washed across his face. Inuyasha didn't waste any time. He fired once, lodging a single bullet right between his eyes. With a grim nod of satisfaction, he tucked his gun into its holster and out of sight and then stepped over to the body. Crouching down onto his haunches, he took a moment to inspect his handiwork.

"You see what just happened right there?"

He spoke in a casual tone, determined to enlighten his deceased rival. "Down at the precinct we call that firing in self defence. Give Satan my regards will ya?"

Wearing a satisfied look, he patted Naraku on the chest and rose to his feet. It was time to check on Kagome. He was already starting to feel antsy and she'd barely been out of his sight five minutes.

His feet echoed across the floorboards as he made his way to the door, stopping only when he stood next to the other body on the floor. Tilting his head to the side, he stared down thoughtfully at the heavy set face of a man he didn't know. It made Kagome's reaction to his death all the more confusing. He'd have to ask her about it later, when she was feeling better. Or maybe Kouga could shed some light on who the mysterious stranger was? He scratched at the stubble along his jaw thoughtfully before taking a knee next to the body. His eyes gave it a once over before his hand came to rest on the man's back.

"I don't know who you are," he muttered quietly, thankful for the moment that no one else was around to see his momentary display of insanity. "But something tells me I should thank you, so thanks."

He hesitated a moment, deliberating, then added in a voice laced with regret, "I'm sorry things turned out this way. I'll make sure your family finds out the right way."

He nodded once, satisfied that he'd said his peace. He pushed himself to his feet once more and grunted at the sharp pain that cut through his shoulder with the movement. He needed to get his arm checked out soon. His demon blood had stemmed the flow of blood, but the amount he'd already lost was starting to make him feel light-headed. The gruesome crimson stain taking up the right half his shirt reminded him of something far more important.

_Kagome_.

Functioning on a one-track mind he pressed forward, allowing her scent to lead him out of the storehouse and back to the salty, open air of the pier. The murky browns and greys of the storehouses lining the dock were bathed in flashes of red and blue. He squinted against the blinding white emergency lights and scanned the collection of emergency vehicles for her.

It looked like Kouga had brought the whole force with him. He took a moment to watch as body after body was tucked, handcuffed, into the back of squad cars. Had they taken down the whole gang? No, probably not, but they'd done some real damage and that was good enough for now. All that mattered to him was that Kagome was safe, everything else was just icing on the cake.

_Speak of the Devil…_

Her scent invaded his nostrils mere seconds before her body ploughed into him. He barely had the chance to get his good arm out to catch her in time.

"I heard a gunshot but they wouldn't let me back inside! I thought… I thought…" she choked out, her words barely discernable from her sobs.

"I told you I'd take care of it, didn't I?" he gruffed as he wrapped his arms around her. His shoulder screamed in protest but he blocked it out. Nothing was more important than this moment and he wasn't going to let something stupid like a bullet wound ruin it. He was still greedily breathing in her scent when Kouga interrupted.

"Sorry! Once she heard the shot she wouldn't stay in the damn ambulance. Damn, stubborn woman."

Inuyasha smiled secretly with pride. _Yeah. My stubborn woman._

He sent Kouga a look as if to say "What do you want me to do about it?", making it plainly obvious that he had no intention of letting her go any time soon.

Kouga shrugged his shoulders and gestured to the ambulance. "She needs to go to the hospital. You can ride with her there; I already worked it out with the crew. Besides, you need to get that shoulder of yours looked at anyway. I'll take care of the clean up here."

When he put it that way, it was just plain stupid to argue with him. Inuyasha nodded, conceding, and took a few seconds to absorb what he could of her warmth before he pulled her away. His body had already begun to shiver violently from the cold, a feeling made worse by the amount of blood he'd already lost.

"Kagome?" He called to her gently, waiting until she lifted her eyes to his before he continued. "Let's go home."

She nodded silently and wrapped her arms around him once more, stubbornly refusing to let go. He wasn't surprised. After what she'd been through she deserved every ounce of comfort he could offer her.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he picked her up in his arms and carried her across the dock to the ambulance. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he walked, content to be protected in his arms. A part of him relished in the feeling and he lowered his cheek to rest it briefly against her forehead.

_I'll always protect you_, he promised her silently and she nodded as though he'd said the words aloud.

Behind him, the morning sun was already beginning to warm his back. It's soft, rosy glow signalled the end of the longest night of his existence. He hadn't escaped unscathed, not by a long shot, and there'd be hell to pay tomorrow, but glancing down at her features relaxed in sleep he couldn't help but think that somehow, it'd all been worth it.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Hello everyone! This is my Christmas present to you – the longest chapter I have ever written… ever. I hope you enjoyed the read! Please feel free to leave a review and let me know your thoughts :)

For those who might be wondering – this isn't the end! There's still so much to the story and so many loose ends left undone. We've got a ways to go yet, so as long as you're up for the ride I'm willing to take you there.

I forgot to do this last chapter. I'd like a second to extend a very special thank you to LuxKen, doggieearlover and inuyashaloverr for nominating LSR in last quarter's IYFG Awards. And a very special thank you to everyone who voted in the FA Awards and gave LSR second place as best Dark Fic. You guys have my gratitude forever :) And because you're all so awesome, this chapter goes out to you. Many, many thanks. I hope it didn't disappoint.

- Langus

(I listened to a weird collection of songs while writing this. Feel free to take them for a spin.)

Song Selection

Placebo – Running Up That Hill

Muse – Supermassive Black Hole

Snow Patrol – Set the Fire to the Third Bar

Moneen – The Song I Swore to Never Sing

Maurice Ravel – Pavane Pour une Infante de Defunte


	23. Intermediate Spaces

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 23

- Intermediate Spaces -

_Where am I?_

The rhythmic beep of a heart rate monitor sounded somewhere close by and for a while she simply listened. Its pace was steady, almost hypnotic. It nearly lulled her back to sleep but her conscious mind wasn't willing to relinquish its hold just yet.

She stirred, experimentally moving fingers, toes, arms and legs just to be sure all the pieces were in working order. There was a constant throbbing ache running through her shoulder and it hurt to breathe too deep, but the pain was tolerable. Strangely, she was thankful for it. Pain meant she was alive. She tried to remember why this made her feel such relief, but her thoughts were clouded like she'd been sleeping for too long or not long enough.

_What happened?_

The second question to float through her thoughts left her just as dumbfounded as the first. The harder she concentrated on the answer, the more it seemed to slip away. The only constant was the dull pain that ebbed and flowed through her body with every pulse of her heart and it was that which finally brought the world into focus.

The realization that she was in a hospital was benign once she remembered _why_ she was there. The evenly spaced beeps echoing from the machine sped up as the memories came roaring back. She remembered every blow, every word. His face leered before hers, smiling, promising no end to the torture. She couldn't look away from the jet black eyes that bore into her soul showing no mercy or emotion.

A sob caught in her throat and her hand fisted the sheets in search of the gun's reassuring weight. She could still feel the uneven crosshatch texture of its grip against her palm.

_Where is it? Where's the damn gun?_

It took a moment before she realized the gun, her only refuge, was gone, taken somewhere far out of her reach. She remembered how easily he'd used it to put a bullet in Inuyasha's shoulder...

_Inuyasha!_

With a sharp intake of breath her eyes snapped open and jerked from one dark corner of the room to the other. The heart rate monitor was beeping like a fiend next to her ear and her hands had a white knuckle grip on the sheets. The sudden warm touch of a hand against her naked arm made her jump.

It took a few seconds of staring before her brain connected the face in front of her eyes to the memories associated with it. The reaction was instantaneous. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, she rested back against the pillow.

"Nightmare?" he asked quietly, pulling his chair a little closer.

She nodded feebly. His fingertips brushed against her arm in a soothing gesture.

"He can't hurt you anymore, Kagome. I promise."

She pulled in a shuddering breath, let it out, and blinked the tears out of her eyes. His words were as reassuring as his presence. The haunting images began to slowly fade from her mind and she repeated a simple mantra to herself –

_It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream._

Naraku was dead. Oniguomo was dead. She was finally free and it was all thanks to him. Her eyes settled on his face and the familiarity of his gruff expression brought a weak smile to her lips. The relief of seeing him there, alive, spread from the centre of her chest in a warm rush that reached the very tips of her limbs. She'd never been more grateful for anything in her entire life.

As her eyes swept over his form, the white tie of a make-shift sling wrapped round his shoulder caught her attention.

"You shoulder…," she whispered, her voice sounding rough from disuse.

He dismissed her concerns with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about me. Go back to sleep so your body can heal."

She didn't want to go back to sleep. She had so many things she wanted to ask him, and so many more she wanted to say, but it was as though his words had flipped a switch in her brain. Her eyelids grew heavy and it was a struggle to get out the next few words.

"Will you…?" was all she managed, but he seemed to understand. The last thing she saw as her eyes drifted closed was his nod. She missed the frown that pulled at his lips and the way his eyes averted hers.

"Yeah. I'll stay."

Too weak to fight the pull, she let his promise wrap around her and like a warm safety blanket it cushioned her descent into the black abyss.

xXx

_3 Days Later…_

It came as a bit of a surprise when the next time she opened her eyes it was to a brightly lit hospital room; made extra cheery by the various bouquets of flowers adorning every surface and the golden sunlight streaming through the window.

Her eyes swept the room slowly, taking it all in, until they fell on a certain hanyou sitting, as promised, exactly where she remembered him. The sling was long gone and he stared quietly at her from a chair next to the bed. An empty coffee cup rested loosely between his hands and his hat sat askew atop his head. He looked like he'd had a rough night, or maybe a few. Her eyes locked with his and the familiar sense of warm relief she felt when she looked at him flooded through her chest once more.

"Hey," she croaked, flashing him a weak smile.

It felt so _good_ to see him again. Nearly a week spent in Naraku's storehouse had given her time to think about a few things; a lot of things, actually. For one, she was finally ready to admit that even though the physical wounds from Oniguomo's abuse had healed years ago, the emotional ones were still raw.

She'd denied the truth for too long, convinced that if she kept the walls up and everyone at arm's length she'd be okay. It hadn't worked. Inuyasha Takahashi, the rude, arrogant, alcoholic, temperamental detective, had broken through her defences and she'd been left vulnerable. She recoiled at the thought of being so defenceless again, but when she was with him it felt like she was healing. The thing that was broken inside of her was being torn down and rebuilt into something new. Being with him felt good; it felt right.

There weren't many people in the world she needed like she needed him. In fact, she couldn't think of one. He was the most important person in her life. He'd dominated her thoughts the entire time she was imprisoned and it wasn't just because she was hoping he'd come save her. She'd dreamt of him, sought comfort in her memories of their times together, worried about him, prayed to every god who would listen that no matter what happened to her he'd be okay.

It took being abducted, tortured and a near death experience for her to realize the truth. She loved him. Not in that giddy, giggly, sugar pop sweet kind of way. There was something more honest about it. Maybe it was because they'd both been hurt and their hearts were vulnerable. Maybe it was because even though they fought like cats and dogs, on any given day they understood each other better than anyone else ever could.

For the first time since Oniguomo she was ready to give her heart to someone. The idea was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. She suddenly found it hard to breathe and the way he was looking at her certainly didn't help. Neither could keep the smile from her face though.

"Hey," he shot back. "How do you feel?"

Looking down, she took quick inventory of her injuries. Other than her arm being in a sling, her body didn't seem too worse for the wear. Like his brother before him, Naraku had developed a particular fondness for striking her in the face. She moved her jaw experimentally from side to side and frowned at the soreness of the muscles as they resisted. It was a small price to pay considering the alternative.

Flexing the fingers of her left hand she answered, "Alright, I guess."

He flashed a grim smile at her and relaxed back into his chair while her gaze fell nervously to the floor. There was so much she needed to tell him. She wasn't even sure where to start. Would he forgive her for keeping Onigumo a secret? Did he hold her responsible for Kikyou's death? Was he only at her side now out of a sense of duty or obligation? Such thoughts didn't sit well in her stomach. Somehow, she needed to find a way to make things right.

"Inuyasha… I-," she began, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Don't."

"But-!"

Scowling, he abruptly stood and retrieved his jacket from the back of his chair.

"I hate hospitals," he groused, shoving his arms into the sleeves.

She stared blankly up at him from the bed. Her brain was so filled with pain medication and antibiotics that it was slow to catch up. Why was he leaving when she still had so much to say? She wasn't sure what she'd expected to find when she awoke, but somehow this didn't seem right. Wasn't he even going to give her a chance to explain?

"Don't go…," she pleaded with her fingers gripping the sheets. The neediness underlying her words was surprising.

Swallowing had become painful. The knot in the back of her throat was so thick that even if she could've found the right words to say just then, she didn't think she'd be able speak them.

He stopped at the door barely long enough to send a lingering glance over his shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright."

And then the doorway was empty. She gaped at it silently, listening to the seconds tick by on the heart rate monitor. He was gone and everything in her gut told her he wasn't coming back.

_He's gone…_

The realization crashed through her like a tidal wave and when the tears came she let them fall, lacking the strength to even wipe them away.

xXx

He could smell her tears from where he stood outside her door. He was a bastard, plain and simple. It took every shred of self control he possessed to keep from walking back into that room, pulling her into his arms and promising that he'd never leave her side again.

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't bear to be in that room a single second longer; staring at her injured body, counting the bruises on her face and knowing, _knowing_, that he could have spared her from them. Maybe not all of them, but the worst of the bunch at least!

And the way she looked at him, with such gratitude and affection, it made him want to claw out his own eyes so that he wouldn't have to be tortured by it anymore. The gods certainly had a cruel sense of humour when it came to him.

He'd wanted to apologize to her the minute she woke up for not being there for her when she'd needed him. He'd spent three long nights thinking about it, planning out the words he would say, but the second she'd opened her mouth they'd evaporated from his tongue like water under the Sahara sun. He was nothing but a damned coward.

His scowl shifted into a pained grimace as the self loathing became too much to bear. Turning, he slammed his fist solidly into the cement brick of the opposite wall until the pain of his cracked knuckles ricocheted up his arm.

_Dammit! Dammit Dammit Dammit!_

"_Alright, I guess."_

Her words echoed through his mind, taunting him. She'd lied for him and put on a brave face, smiling through the pain that probably coursed through her body with every breath. Two broken ribs and three more cracked, a badly dislocated shoulder, a broken jaw, cracked cheekbones and orbital bones… There was so much _damage_. There was no way she didn't _feel _that.

He'd watched her sleep for three days, inwardly wincing with each breath she took. A bullet through the shoulder was _nothing_ compared to that, and the worst part was he could've prevented it. It was nearly as bad as if he'd laced into her himself!

Uttering a pained groan, he braced his hand against the wall and considered dropping to the floor and never moving again. He didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room as her either. He didn't know what the hell to do with himself anymore. Sit outside her door like an obedient dog? Suck it up like a man and stay by her side? Or go back to life outside the hospital doors?

He was still torn, trying to decide which direction his feet should move next when a familiar voice caught his attention from down the hall.

"Heya mutt!"

_Kouga_.

He pulled away from the wall as his partner in crime sidled up to him. His eyes caught the bouquet of flowers Kouga was trying to keep out of sight, but decided he had enough battles to fight without adding another. He nodded a greeting and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"You still here? It's been, what, four days? Go home! Take a shower! Get some rest!" Kouga clapped him on the shoulder and shook it a little as though he were trying to shake some sense into him.

"Yeah, I was just headin' there," he lied, evading his eyes.

"Hey, did she wake up yet? How's she doin'?"

The mutt glanced towards the open door and tried to get a look inside over his shoulder. Inuyasha shrugged out of his grasp and took a step back to give himself some space.

"She's fine."

Something in his tone must've given him away because Kouga shot him a curious look. Pretending he didn't see it, he looked away and scratched nervously at the back of his head. Eager for a distraction, he decided to ask about the man at the storehouse. Not knowing who he was bothered him. He wanted to do at least one decent thing this week and make good on his promise to tell the man's family.

"Hey, who was that John Doe DOA? You know him?"

Kouga shrugged and crossed his arms, careful of the flower blooms. "Just some yakuza scum, I think. I don't really know to be honest. I got to that hall that led to the balcony and I see him standin' outside the door listenin' to everything that's going on below.

"I didn't know if he was a friendly or not, and I could hear you talkin' with that rat bastard trying to stall for time, so I waited till the guy made his move and then moved in to take him out if I had to. He only got one shot off before Takeda put a slug in his chest."

Kouga's fingers found their way to the smooth shaven skin of his jaw and he rubbed at it in thought. "You know, I don't think he was shooting at you. From where I was standin' anyway, it looked like he was aiming for Takeda. I almost feel sorry for him. Some poor guy just tryin' to do the world a favour and make it short a yakuza Boss…

He shrugged and shook his head dismally, sighing in frustration at the unfairness of it all. In typical Kouga fashion, he was upbeat again in a shot. Nothing could keep him down for long. Snapping his fingers, he asked,

"Hey, did you figure out how Kagome knew the guy?"

Inuyasha shrugged and shook his head. Inwardly, he withdrew from the sound of her name and the feelings he'd begun to associate with it. Feelings of guilt, hate, disgust… all directed inward.

It was time to leave, before he lost his nerve. Kouga was right - he needed a shower and a change of clothes. Besides that, he didn't want to be within 10 miles of the hospital once he talked to Kagome and saw her tears. It'd be nothing but annoying, prying questions and dirty looks after that and he didn't have the patience for it.

He'd only taken a single step toward freedom when a strong hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hold up! I've got somethin' for ya."

It was Inuyasha's turn to lift an eyebrow. Hesitant, he turned back around. "What is it?"

"Call it an early Christmas present. Here, we dug it out of the floorboards at the storehouse. Ballistics has already been over it so it's all yours."

He caught the clear plastic cup Kouga tossed at him by reflex. The metallic 'tink tink' against the hard plastic caught his attention and he held it up to the light to better study the warped bullet fragment inside.

_Hard to believe something so small can cause such a world of pain_, he thought. His demon blood had completely healed the bullet wound in his shoulder two days prior, but it ached now out of sympathy for the memory.

"What's wrong?"

Kouga's question went unanswered.

He stared up at the bullet, scrutinizing it in the fluorescent hospital lights, turning the cup this way and that. Finally, sounding preoccupied, he asked, "You're sure this is the right one?"

Kouga nodded and leaned in, his detective instincts making him curious. "Yeah it had your blood all over it. Why, what's up?"

Inuyasha shook his head thoughtfully and frowned. _It's not gold._

"It's not gold," he muttered, repeating the unsettling thought aloud for his partner's sake.

For his part Kouga looked thoroughly confused but a fire of excitement had begun to shine in eyes.

"Was it supposed to be?" he prodded.

"It shoulda been. If he was the one…" Inuyasha's words trailed off as his mind whirred, already running a mile a minute. He made his way purposefully toward the double doors at the end of the hall, tucking the bullet fragment into his jacket for safe keeping.

"Where you goin'? Are you on to something? You can't just leave me hangin' like this!"

His feet didn't halt for Kouga's shouts of indignation. There was no stopping them now. He practically ran to the snow dusted squad car he'd left in the Visitor Parking four days prior. As he slipped inside and kicked the snow off his shoes he silently thanked his new partner. Uttering a quiet snort, he jammed the key into the ignition turned it, bringing the engine roaring to life.

_Early Christmas present indeed._

xXx

"Heya Kagome!" Kouga called out sounding extra cheerful as he rounded the corner into her room.

He tactfully averted his eyes when he noticed her wiping tears from her cheeks and made a mental note to torture an explanation out of the mutt if he had to. When he looked back she was offering him a small smile from where she sat upright on the bed. Walking over to her, he held out the small, vibrant bouquet of flowers that he'd picked up in the hospital gift shop. She accepted them with a gracious nod and automatically brought them to her nose to breathe them in.

"Kouga, thank you. They're beautiful."

He felt an uncharacteristic blush tint his cheeks pink and hastily looked away, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he did so.

"No hard feelings, okay? About the whole gun thing?"

"No hard feelings," she agreed and nodded, surprisingly forgiving given the circumstances.

He breathed an inward sigh of relief. He'd been worried about that – her holding a grudge. Sometimes civilians didn't understand the complexity of situations like that. A cop's gotta do their job in a hostage situation no matter who's holding the gun or how important they are to them. He'd always thought she had a good head on her shoulders. He was glad to see he was right.

Trying to be discreet, he studied her injuries in the fading daylight. It was strange seeing her this way, looking so small and vulnerable. The Kagome he knew was larger than life, a hot little spitfire who didn't take shit from anyone. The girl in the bed looked like Kagome under the bruises, but apart from that he didn't have a clue who she was.

Taking a turn about the room, he drew to a halt by the window and gazed out at the parking lot six stories below. He watched the mutt's car back out of its spot and speed toward the main road. Damn. He was definitely on to something. He'd have to torture the details about that out of him later too.

"So, they treatin' you alright in here?" he asked, turning with a smile to the girl in the bed.

"I guess so," she shrugged. "I just want to go home. It feels like an eternity since I've been able to sleep in my own bed..."

He didn't like the faraway look that suddenly clouded her eyes and moved quickly to change the subject.

"So how 'bout the food? Is it as bad as they say?"

She glanced sidelong at the untouched tray of food that'd been left next to her bed.

"I wouldn't know."

Between waking up and having Inuyasha walk out on her he figured there hadn't been time enough to eat.

The far away look was back in her eyes and Kouga watched anxiously as her attention was drawn to the fading sunlight beyond her window. He began to wonder if she'd ever go back to the way she was before. All week he'd been celebrating like a hero because they'd arrived in time to save her, but perhaps they'd been too late after all.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the window and watched a plane cross the sky.

"Well I'm glad you're doing alright. You had us worried for a while there."

Her smile was fleeting and it didn't reach her eyes.

"Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, beautiful," he said, brushing off her apology with a wink.

Remembering his conversation with the mutt in the hallway, he decided to ask about the man in the storehouse. The mystery was getting to him too. From the look of him the guy was pure yakuza but he couldn't figure how Kagome had ever become connected to the likes of him. Were there even more skeletons hiding in her closet? He sincerely hoped not. He didn't want to be disappointed by her again.

"I was wonderin' – who was that guy at the storehouse? The one who got shot. It seemed like you knew him?"

He watched her reaction carefully and realized belatedly that he was searching for tell tale signs she was lying. Once a cop, always a cop; there was no getting it out of his system. He felt instantly guilty when he noticed her shoulders shaking. He was at her side in two steps, pulling the mutt's chair up close to the bed. Wearing an apologetic look, he took hold of her hand.

"Sorry, I didn't… Shit, I was just curious…"

She shook her head and sniffled loudly while wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"No, it's fine. I don't know why I'm being like this." She laughed lightly; a shaky, nervous sound. "That guy… He's no one really. He's just some yakuza."

"And?" he prodded, her evasive answer making him more curious than ever.

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

She sent him a withering look and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. It took a heavy sigh and an encouraging smile from him before she was ready to continue.

"Before Naraku got there he was…nice to me. We talked. His name's Kesuke. He has a daughter named Yuriko. She's only six. He didn't want to be a yakuza, you know, but it was the only way he could pay the bills. He was a socially inept jerk off, but he wasn't such a bad guy. Even when he left he…"

Her words trailed off as memories claimed her.

"He didn't deserve to die like that," she finished in a quiet whisper.

Kouga sat back and let out a despondent sigh. _Stockholm Syndrome. Damn,_ he thought. It was unfortunate, but at least the guy was dead so there'd be no complications down the road. She was right, he hadn't deserved to go out like that but such was life. It wasn't always fair to those who deserved it.

Eager to pull her out of her funk, he leaned in and offered her his most charming smile.

"How about I make you a deal? You concentrate on getting better and when you get outta here I'll take you for dinner somewhere nice. Your choice."

She smiled at that and her eyes seemed to come alive again.

"Okay, it's a deal," she promised. "As long as you clear it with Inuyasha. I don't want a repeat of last time."

Kouga thought back to their previous breakfast date and had to laugh at the memory of the mutt storming in halfway through to grab him up around the collar and threaten to beat his face in. Typical Takahashi.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," he laughed and gave her hand a reassuring pat.

His eyes glanced automatically at the empty doorway and he couldn't help but wonder if in a few days time asking the mutt for permission to take her out would even be necessary.

xXx

A sharp winter wind whipped down the narrow street; it tousled the dark hair around her face and stole her breath away. Her ruby shaded lips pursed with annoyance while her heel stubbed out what was left of her cigarette on the sidewalk.

She wasn't accustomed to waiting and with each minute that passed her temper grew shorter. Hunching her shoulders, she tucked her chin into the luxurious warmth of her fur collar and studied the café across the street.

Its interior lights cast a warm yellow glow against the dark pavement, inviting passers by inside. The oversized furniture and simple décor gave it a warm and cozy appeal, but it wasn't her style. From the razor sharp point of her heel, to the hard line of her mouth and the cool, impassioned intelligence she was known for there was nothing that could be considered warm or cozy about her.

She was Kagura Suzuki, director of Tokyo's top yakuza syndicate; she couldn't afford to be soft, or weak. At every turn she had to remind those beneath her that she had every right to stand at the Boss's right hand.

Daily life had become a constant battle – between the ruthless insubordinates jockeying for her position and the near constant need to reassert Inagawa-kai's dominance over Tokyo – and it was wearing her thin. Sometimes she wondered how much longer she could endure. Was it even worth it? On some days it was harder to answer that question than others, this being one of them.

Her watch read 10:05. It was time to leave. Curiosity had gotten the better of her this time, but she didn't wait around for anyone. She couldn't afford to look weak no matter how badly she wanted answers. It was as she turned to leave that her contact decided to make an appearance.

"You're late." Her tone was biting and it had the desired effect. He bowed low, showing his shame.

"My apologies, Director. Forgive me. Did you hear the news?"

"News?"

"The Boss is dead."

Those four words resonated through her, momentarily stealing her composure. _Dead?_ Could the gods be so kind? She'd spent half a decade tolerating whatever abuse his sadistic mind could think to dole out and now, just like that, she was free? It hardly seemed possible. But now wasn't the time for celebration. She had to stay in control – now, more than ever.

Maintaining her cool composure she snapped, "You'd better have something for me."

While he nodded and retrieved a manila envelope from inside his jacket, she put another cigarette to her lips and lit it in a futile effort to keep warm. Inside the envelope was a set of glossy 8x10 photographs.

"What is this?" she sneered, holding up a photo of the café across the street. An all too familiar face was shown leaving its door looking rather preoccupied with his thoughts.

"I've been watching him for a while now. He comes to this place a lot," he explained, aiming a derisive glance at the café. "Kami knows why…"

"What's so special about it? Does he have a connection inside?"

She flipped through a few more photos, studying them through a haze of cigarette smoke for signs that the café was a front. There didn't appear to be any. Her contact seemed to agree. He shook his head and shoved his hands under his arms to keep them warm.

"I don't think so, nothing that I've found anyway. It's just a coffee shop. I think he likes to talk to the waitress," he offered, tilting his head to study the photo on the top of the pile. It was a close up shot of the girl. She was young, no more than 20 if she was a day, and cute. The venomous jealousy that surged through her veins was both sudden and potent.

"Can't blame him. She's a cute little thing."

Kagura made a sound of disgust at his uninvited commentary and he hastily retreated with an apologetic bow.

After shoving the photos back into the envelope, she slipped the entire package into the cavernous designer bag that hung over her shoulder. Taking a long, slow drag from her cigarette, she watched the small wisp of a girl through the café's front window.

The pretty young thing was moving gracefully about from table to table, wiping them down while collecting the used mugs and teacups. She was tempted to walk in there and lace into the little bitch herself but she couldn't afford to be connected to this. There weren't many men in Tokyo she feared, but she feared him. If he knew she was involved there wouldn't be a single piece of her left that was large enough to identify. The thought sent a shiver down her spine even as it hardened her resolve.

Taking another drag, she blew it out slowly and fixed her hard, calculating gaze on the neon sign posted above the coffee shop door that labelled it the Vica Café. _How quaint. _Terrifying though he was, Sesshomaru had to learn some respect. Perhaps this would be one way to remind him that he wasn't as untouchable as he liked to think.

"Burn it," she ordered.

"And the girl?"

She lifted an eyebrow and a smirk tugged at her ruby stained lips.

"I'll leave that up to you."

She didn't need to wait around to see her contact's nod of agreement. He would do as he was told if he wanted to be paid. The satisfaction that surged through her made her feel as though she were walking on air. With each click of her heel that echoed against the pavement her confidence soared higher.

For the first time in her life she could do as she pleased. She felt like the soaring eagle that floated freely over the countryside on the back of the wind. She was untouchable and finally, at last, there was nothing left standing in her way.

* * *

_Author's Note: _This chapter came out sooner than expected (terrible school work procrastination on my part) so I figured I'd post it. I hope you liked it!

I will be on hiatus for the next few weeks due to my thesis being due at the end of the month so please be patient with me :) Rest assured, there's lots more to come with this one.

I just noticed the other day that LSR was nominated by landofthekewt and LuxKen for best Action/Adventure and Best AU in the IYFG awards. Thank you so much for the support you guys! This chapter goes out to you.

Happy 2009 Everyone!

- Langus


	24. Ultimatum

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 24 –

Ultimatum

There was nothing particularly appealing about Club VOSS. It was a too-small, appallingly decorated establishment located in the heart of Tokyo's Yoshiwara district. It boasted a mediocre menu of hostesses on the billboards out front and presented an even less impressive cast inside. Sesshomaru found the very idea of being there repugnant but for all its faults Club VOSS was discrete, and when you were in his line of business discretion was everything.

Swallowing down the sour tang of disdain that lingered in his mouth, Sesshomaru took a seat at one of the club's more secluded booths and offered his business partner a stiff nod. The man seated across from him returned the gesture in kind and called to the waitress for another glass of Scotch.

"Welcome Sesshomaru. It's been some time since I've had the honour of your company."

Sesshomaru nodded and offered a tight smile.

He despised the man sitting across from him, just like he did all the others of his sort. They were all the same - detestable creatures with sharp, cagey eyes and deep pockets. Their belief that money gave them permission to forego all elements of social grace was pandemic amongst them. This man for instance, Yoshi Hanamari, had been operating for some time under the misapprehension that his money gave him permission to refer to Sesshomaru by his given name. If it weren't for the fact that Mr. Hanamari contributed a quarter million yen to his businesses yearly, he would have cut ties, and removed the man's tongue, some time ago.

"Tell me, Sesshomaru, how's business?"

Hanamari asked this as he retrieved a fresh cigarette from his case and lit it before the previous one had even gone out. The man was a chain smoker as well; he did everything in excess and none of it well.

The waitress returned and slid a glass of Scotch in front of them. Sesshomaru tipped her well enough so she'd disappear until they called for her again. He was less than surprised to find that the drink smelled and tasted like cheap gasoline. The knowledge that he'd just spent 2000 yen on a glass of what amounted to gutter filth fouled his mood considerably.

"Business is good," he answered without feeling any need to elaborate.

Hanamari nodded, satisfied, and Sesshomaru watched with disgust as he happily sucked down his glass of petrol. He doubted the man even knew what real Scotch tasted like.

"Only good? I'd think it'd be booming these days with Takeda out of the picture."

Sesshomaru grunted dismissively at the name of his deceased rival. In their industry there were two kinds of men – the kind who were born good at what they did and the rest, who bullied and blackmailed their way to the top. Naraku Takeda had belonged to the latter and no one mourned his loss.

He'd always known Takeda to be a calculating and vindictive bastard when it came to his women, so the news that he'd fallen victim to his obsession with one had come as something of a surprise.

"Takeda was a fool," he muttered before choking down another sip of his drink.

Hanamari chuckled darkly in agreement.

"True enough, true enough. I suppose it's true what they say – "Look behind the downfall of every great man, and you will find a woman?"

Sesshomaru shrugged. It wasn't something he worried about. He wasn't like Takeda. The women in his life were pretty accessories, something he enjoyed until he grew tired of them and moved on to the next. Forming attachments was dangerous business and not the sort of gamble he felt inclined to dabble in.

"Regardless, Takeda was a fool," he muttered into his glass, but Hanamari was no longer listening. His attention had been thoroughly diverted by a leggy waitress delivering a drink order to a group a few tables away. Sesshomaru eyed the round curve of the waitress's ass and determined that she was far too 'cheap' looking for his liking.

"Ahhh, but I do love these wonderful establishments!" Hanamari cheered, practically licking his lips at each scantily clad hostess who walked by.

"Tell me Sesshomaru," he grinned, prodding him in the ribs, "do you enjoy these sorts of places often?

Sesshomaru pulled heavily on his cigarette and, with great effort, removed his hand from his gun. He had to wonder at times if the man was even aware of how close he'd come to being disembowelled on more than one occasion.

"No. I'm far too busy managing our clubs and turning you a profit."

Hanamari laughed heartily at this and clapped him on the shoulder while cheering, "Good man! Good man!"

Despite owning a sizeable stake in Tokyo's entertainment business himself, he'd always considered these sorts of establishments beneath him; low class breeding low class. The people who worked in them were nearly as pathetic and disgusting in his eyes as the patrons who spent their money to pretend these women actually enjoyed their lacklustre wit and charm more than what was in their wallets.

He discretely checked his watch while Hanamari chatted up a waitress who'd had the unfortunate bad luck to pass their table. His taste in entertainment was somewhat more refined. He enjoyed subtlety and culture, class and intellect. It was only 10:30. If he left now he could still make it to the café before it closed…

The unconscious calculations his brain was making, subtracting minutes and adding travel time, caught him off guard. It had been weeks since he'd last stepped foot through the doors of the Vica Café. For a while he'd managed to forget about it entirely, focusing instead on meeting year end deadlines and enticing new investors to trust him with their money. But with the hectic pace of the holiday season gone, his thoughts had slowly started to creep back to the café and its petite doe-eyed waitress.

His thoughts had wandered on more than one occasion to linger on the girl with the simple name. She intrigued him; being so unlike the women he was used to, he couldn't help but wonder. His jaded sense of better judgement was thoroughly convinced that beneath her plain looks and simple smile she was just as cunning and manipulative as the rest. But there was more to it than that. While he'd avoided her for the sake of not corrupting the image he'd constructed of her in his mind, it went against his nature. She appealed to him the same way a fresh block of clay would tantalize a sculptor. Like the sculptor's clay, she too could be moulded into something spectacular, something entirely his own. He liked the idea, more than liked it, but pursuing it would require seeing her again at some point in the near future.

He contemplated the wisdom of leaving and checked his watch again. 10:45. It'd be tight, but if he took a shortcut through traffic… And then all contemplation ceased because across the room, navigating between empty tables with a drink tray in hand was a girl far too familiar for his liking. She looked thinner than he remembered, and sorely out of place in her short skirt and high heels, but there was no mistaking her.

"You know what I love about this place?" Hanamari gushed, his face flushed from laughter and too much alcohol. Sesshomaru lifted an eyebrow expectantly and Hanamari leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "The stench of the business doesn't linger on these girls like it does some of the others. They're so fresh, most of them; ripe little fruits perfect for plucking!"

The hostesses that had made themselves at home at their table cackled like hyenas at Hanamari's words. The one closest to Sesshomaru touched his shoulder flirtatiously and licked her lips as she crossed her legs. He couldn't hide the look of disdain that crossed his features. She got the hint and turned her attention to more fruitful pastures while he focused his entirely on the girl across the room.

His eyes following her every move as she flitted from table to table, smiling, flirting, delivering drinks to her customers...

Unbeknownst to him, his fists clenched atop the table; they were the only outward sign of the rage that was slowly boiling to life inside of him. Staring at the whites of his knuckles, he searched for the source of this sudden feeling but couldn't come up with anything tangible beyond the realization that the image he'd constructed of her had been a complete fallacy.

Perhaps knowing that he'd allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy was what bothered him. Either way, it was time to leave. Forcing himself to linger and watch her display any longer was simply asking too much. He excused himself with a curt nod, stating that he had other business to attend to. Hanamari waved him off, far too preoccupied with the hostess sitting in his lap to notice or care.

The cool air of the street was a welcome relief but his mind continued to reel as he made his way to his car. On a whim he gave his driver directions to the Vica Café. There were questions he wanted answers to, and that seemed as good a place as any to start.

xXx

The drum of rain on the roof was deafening, but it wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out the whispers of doubt that stole her courage. Kouga's warm hand covered hers and she offered him a tight smile.

She wasn't ready. Every part of her knew it, right down to her bones, but there was nothing she could do to stop the earth's forward motion. Somehow she'd wound up trapped inside, forced along for the ride with no safety belt or reassurance that she'd still be in once piece at the end.

The door to her building lingered just beyond the car's passenger window but she could barely bring herself to look at it. She'd survived for too long on the mantra that everything would be okay once she was home again. But now, while she glanced up at the brick structure looming over her like a great wall, she could feel the last shred of hope she'd been clinging to fall away. Nothing felt better. Nothing had changed. In the end she'd been fooling herself, about a lot of things.

Kouga gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and ducked out the driver's door to grab her things from the trunk. She watched him brave the monsoon for her sake in the rearview mirror and nibbled nervously at her lip.

It was still a complete mystery to her how she'd wound up with someone like him in her life. He was there for her when she didn't even realize she needed him. It didn't seem to matter what he did though, no amount of nice deeds or kind words could silence the nagging voice in the back of her mind that wondered how long he'd stick around once he realized she couldn't give him what he truly wanted.

The hiss of the rain against the blacktop stole her focus as she slowly made her way from the car to the door. It cast off a light mist that licked at her ankles and made her socks damps. She'd have to change once she got inside, maybe have a nice hot bath to get the cold out of her bones. The idea grew more appealing as she followed him slowly up the stairs to her floor. It'd be nice to feel warm again, and safe too. She hadn't felt either in so long.

"Well, go on," Kouga urged with a smile once they got to her door, "You must be dying to finally be back in your own place."

_Hardly,_ she thought, but her hand shoved the key into the lock anyhow.

Much like everything else, getting her door open was about a hundred times more difficult with only one working arm. The other was strapped tight to her body in a sling, an unfortunate consequence of her shoulder injury being left untended. The dislocation had swelled up so bad by the time she arrived at the hospital the doctors decided with a couple days that surgery was the only option.

The news was so overwhelming she hadn't known how to react. Waffling between fear, anger and frustration she'd thrown the worst tantrum of her adult life. It was something else she had to endure, some more pain she had to suffer through. Hadn't she gone through enough already? When would it finally be enough?

She'd tearfully shouted at Kouga when he'd come by to visit her that day. It made her cringe now to think of the harsh things she'd said to him. He'd listened patiently throughout her entire tirade then gave her a hard look and said in a very quiet voice,

'Not many people can say they've walked away from a run in with the yakuza with their life and limbs still intact. You're lucky Kagome, luckier than most. Remember that.'

She didn't think she'd see him again after that, especially not when her response had been an indignant 'Go fuck yourself!'

He left without saying another word, only to return at his usual time the next day bearing flowers and a smile. She didn't have the strength or courage to send him away. Because at the end of the day, she couldn't ignore the fact that after three weeks of surgeries, rehabilitation and round after round of antibiotics, the only name on her Visitor's List was his.

It was a bitter pill to swallow. The years she'd spent holding everyone at arm's length had finally caught up to her. Not a single one of her coworkers had come by to check on her, her friends and family had been mysteriously MIA, and Inuyasha hadn't shown his face since the day he'd walked out. She hadn't expected him to, knowing full well that he wouldn't want anything to do with her know that he saw her for what she was, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"You really didn't have to do this you know," she muttered while using her good shoulder to push the door to her apartment open. "I know you're busy with your cases…"

Kouga chuckled softly and followed her inside.

"Well sure, but today this is more important. I wanted to make sure you'd be okay here by yourself."

He said this from the kitchen where he was setting her bags down on the floor. She lingered in the hall, taking her time to lock the door before she slowly made her way to join him. The apartment looked the same as she remembered, down to the last minor detail, yet she couldn't help but think that it was no longer hers. The space didn't feel lived in or homey or comforting – all of the things she'd hoped it would be when she arrived.

Taking a quick tour about the kitchen she looked unenthusiastically at the stack of bills piled on the counter and listlessly opened the fridge door. After so many weeks away she didn't even want to think about how much food would be rotting inside. Surprisingly, what greeted her was shelf after shelf of fresh produce and some of her favourite snacks.

Stunned, she stared at him over the top of the fridge door.

"Did you…?" she began to ask, but the pleased look on his face gave the rest away.

"Well I figured you'd need something to eat so I took the liberty of putting a few things in there for you. If you need anything else, just let me know. I don't want you trying to carry any grocery bags with that arm, understand?"

"More…?" she stuttered, momentarily at a loss for words. "Kouga…Thank you..."

She didn't think to ask how he'd gotten her keys or how he knew that purple seedless grapes were her favourite.

He smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, it's nothin'. You've gotta eat right?"

"Yeah…right."

Taking the initiative, he grabbed her bags off the floor and headed for the bedroom. Her feet followed reluctantly while her mind lingered on the fridge.

Why was he being so nice to her? Not once in all the months they'd known each other had she done anything that would even come close to making her worthy of the special treatment he bestowed upon her without a second thought. It didn't seem right.

No, that wasn't exactly it. The truth was she didn't know how to handle 'nice'. The men in her life were something she survived, not something she benefitted from. Kouga was different from the others in a way that made her sit up and take notice, while being racked with guilt at the same time. At the end of the day it didn't matter that he was 'nice' and patient, or that he took the day off to drive her home from the hospital and bought her groceries, because at the end of the day _he_ wasn't who her heart wanted.

Fate was cruel that way; it always had been when it came to her and love.

"Were you planning a trip somewhere?"

Kouga's voice greeted her the moment she stepped into the bedroom. It didn't feel like hers anymore. From where she stood, it was just another empty space like all the other rooms in her apartment. Seeing the open suitcase on her bed and the clothes strewn about in various stages of packing, she nodded slowly.

"I was going to Hokkaido..."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and a thoughtful look came over his face. "You should go," he determined with a nod, "Once you're all healed up I mean."

She pursed her lips as she thought the idea and eventually offered him a half-hearted shrug.

"Maybe," she conceded, not willing to elaborate more.

Suddenly embarrassed by the mess, she began grabbing the clothes off her bed and shoving them into her suitcase. The idea of going away on a trip seemed so stupid and juvenile now. That had been the old Kagome and she didn't feel any attachment to her whatsoever.

She'd planned to go with _him_, but when he'd turned her offer down she'd decided to go without him just to make him jealous. She hadn't gotten the chance to follow her plan through, but now she doubted it would've had her desired effect on him at all. What a joke.

Kouga chuckled and gave her a wink.

"Well, if you change your mind and want someone to tour the best hot spring region in Japan with, my schedule is free and clear!"

"Thanks," she laughed, choosing to ignore his not-so-subtle suggestion.

Silence fell over them as her forced laughter died away. It was only then that she noticed how close was standing. He was close enough that she could see the rain drops still clinging to the stubble on his cheeks and smell the lingering scent of his cologne. Her eyes met his and there was no subtlety in them. His words were subtle in their suggestiveniess but his eyes...

Pulling in a deep breath, she smiled apologetically and took a much needed step back. Disappointment flickered through his gaze but he took the hint and waited until she'd made it half way down the hall before he followed. He caught up to her in the living room and lingered at the door, watching her where she stood in front of the balcony window staring at the city below.

"Kagome..."

She turned and offered him a watery smile over her shoulder. His feet crossed the distance between them in two strides and he took her gently by the shoudlers. She'd let him hold her a few times at the hospital without complaint, usually after waking up from some horrible nightmare. Tonight she didn't have the strength to push him away. Pushing down the twinge of guilt in her stomach, she turned into his arms and let him hold her.

"Hey now… What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head and kept her eyes averted. "I-I…"

It was hard to get the words out. They stuck in her throat, refusing to be spoken just on the off chance they held some grain of truth. Wearing a troubled frown, Kouga patiently brushed the tears from her cheeks.

"Is this real?" she managed to whisper.

"What-?" His expression shifted from concern to confusion.

She swallowed a hiccup and tried again, her voice stronger this time. "I mean this - me being here. Is this real, or is it some kind of elaborate illusion my subconscious cooked up and I'm actually lying in a coma in a hospital bed somewhere?"

He shook his head and his hand gently squeezed her good shoulder.

"Kagome, it's not possible," he promised.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," he answered simply, "if this was all a figment of your imagination I wouldn't be the one standing here with you."

The truth sobered her features and she looked away from him with a guilty blush staining her cheeks. She didn't speak because to say anything would ruin the shaky balance they'd established, the one that allowed them to be friends without being friends, and close like lovers without being lovers. It was a strange thing they had and even though she couldn't define it, she couldn't stand to lose it either.

Uttering a resigned sigh, Kouga hesitated only a moment before closing the distance between them. He pulled her against his chest and held her with his chin gently resting atop her head until the trembles subsided.

"Are you going to be okay here by yourself?" he wondered aloud, almost to himself. "I don't feel right leaving you alone."

She sighed before answering in the most convincing tone she could manage, "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl remember? I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said with a smile pulling at his lips.

"I've got a patrol car posted outside. They're going to keep a 24 hour watch on your place until things die down. We don't want to take any chances…"

She nodded and tilted her head up to smile at him.

"Thank you, Kouga, for everything, really. You've been so good to me these past few weeks. I don't know how I'll ever pay you back."

"You could take me up on my dinner offer," he shot back without missing a beat. Her mouth twisted into a smirk when she noticed the devious grin on his face.

"Just promise me you'll think about it, okay?"

"Okay, I promise to _think_ about it."

"Good."

"You headed back to the precinct?" She asked, trying to sound unperturbed as he relinquished his hold and headed for his shoes by the door. She'd never admit it aloud, but she was terrified to be alone.

"Nope. I've gotta pick up some evidence for a case I'm working on at 29th Division," he explained off-handedly while slipping on his shoes.

"29th Division?" Her mouth suddenly went dry. An awkward moment of silence passed between them before she could work up the courage to ask the question that'd been plaguing her thoughts.

"How's he doing?"

"He's fine."

Kouga's response was clipped and she was surprised to see a dark anger simmering in his gaze when he lifted his eyes to hers.

_Fine…?_ She was a basket case suffering from post traumatic stress who'd driven herself half-insane wondering if she'd ever hear from him again and he was _fine_. Well, fuck him.

Kouga's anger seemed to have passed as quickly as it'd come. He smiled at her with that charming smile he was so good at, the one the gods had designed to melt women's hearts, and headed for the door.

"Give me a call when you've made up your mind on where you want to go for dinner," he called over his shoulder with a wink before letting himself out.

She stared at the door as it drew shut, not quite sure what to think. The confidence he exuded sometimes was just astounding. She wanted to be annoyed that he would just _assume_ that she'd call him, but she couldn't seem to work up the energy. What right did she have to deny him anything, anyway?

Uttering a quiet groan of frustration, she made her way to the kitchen and fished out the bottle of merlot hiding in the back of the cupboard next to the stove. Red wine helped her think. It also got her drunker than a sorority girl at a frat house kegger, but right now she needed something to take the edge off. Maybe a glass or two of the red stuff would help her figure a way out of the maze Inuyasha had left her stranded in? Maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out a way to quit him without getting her heart trampled more than it already was.

With a fresh glass of red wine in hand, she curled up in the chair closest to the window and stared down at the blinking red light of her answering machine. Two messages. She didn't give herself time to hope one would be from him before she hit 'Play'. The obnoxious voice of Asashi Shimbun's Editor suddenly filled her living room, booming out of the small box as though he were hovering right next to her.

"Higurashi! Readership is down 5% from last month! FIVE PERCENT! Do you think this is any sort of time to take a vacation? Get your ass back to work! Yesterday!"

The machine beeped, announcing the end of the message and with a sigh she deleted it. Same old, same old with him. Oddly enough, the brash venom of his words was somewhat comforting. It made her feel normal again, like she'd never been gone at all. Normal was good.

No surprise, message number two was also from her Editor. The tone of this one was a little more, well not exactly compassionate but perhaps more tolerant than the last.

"Higurashi! I just heard what happened. Take as much time as you need, but we need you back here. I've got a piece you can work on in the meantime. Send it to me when it's ready…"

The rest of the message contained a rambling run down of an arson that'd taken place a couple week's prior and a list of contacts she could get in touch with. She saved it on the machine for later and took a thoughtful sip of wine.

It was a softball story, something to ease her back into the swing of things. A distraction was exactly what she needed right now; something to keep her mind off Kouga and Inuyasha and the nightmares that just didn't want to quit. An arson story was perfect.

The wine disappeared from her glass in one last sip and went straight to her head. Curled up like a cat, she rested her chin atop her knees and watched the grey rain blanket the city. The weather suited her mood perfectly, she thought smugly.

Too tired to do much of anything and too scared to sleep, she settled for sitting in the dark and listening to the sound of rain against the window pane. If someone had asked her five years ago where she saw this momnent in her life, her answer would've been a world away from the truth.

This world she was living in now, the one where she came home to an empty apartment and two voice mails, both from her Boss, was a world of her own creation. There was no use getting upset about it and no use trying to deny it, either.

Going forward, there were two options in front of her. Option One was to maintain the status quo and continue fumbling through the mess of a life she'd created for herself. Option Two was to make a change. Correction, Option Two was to make a lot of changes and see where they took her.

She didn't have time for fear anymore, or pretentiousness, or empty promises – all the things she'd been surviving on until now.

Change is good, she promised herself even as _his _face flashed through her thoughts.

First order of business – she grabbed her cell phone off the counter, flipped it open and scrolled through the numbers stored in her address book. The kanji of his name stared up at her from the glowing screen and she considered it a moment before dialing his number. It rang twice before going to voice mail and she found herself hesitating.

_Change is good. Change is good..._

She took a deep breath and swallowed down the guilt and fear that had choked her words. It was time for a new beginning. It was time for a new Kagome. What better time than now?

"Kouga, it's me… Dinner sounds great."

xXx

Kouga kicked open the break room door at the 29th precinct with the toe of his shoe. He wasn't surprised to find the mutt inside, hunched over a cold cup of coffee. With a sly glance he made his way to the cupboard over the sink and retrieved a mug. The coffee looked like it'd been sitting around for a while. After one quick sniff he dumped it down the sink and set about making a fresh pot.

"So, Kagome's out of the hospital. Have you talked to her?"

He glanced over his shoulder at the mutt's tense posture and hunched shoulders and figured that was answer enough.

With the pot in place and the coffee maker hissing to life, he had time to spare so he took a seat at the table. Takahashi looked up briefly and averted his eyes. He tried to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee but the face he made said he instantly regretted that decision.

"Don't worry, I'm making a fresh pot," Kouga pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Thanks." Takahashi stood abruptly and dumped what was left of his cold coffee down the sink.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Hmmm?" Feigning ignorance, he browsed through a stack of newspapers someone had left on the counter.

"About Kagome. How's she doing?"

"How the hell should I know? Why don't you go visit her if you're so damn concerned about it?"

The venom came out of nowhere, but Kouga had expected it. He sat back into the chair and laced his fingers behind his head.

"I have. I'm just wondering why you haven't."

He watched the mutt carefully, noting the way his fingers halted from turning the pages of the newspaper in front of him.

"How's she doing?" he asked quietly.

Kouga sighed and sat forward, feeling more frustrated as the minutes ticked by. The coffee pot was gurgling loudly now, nearly done its cycle. He could already imagine the soothing warmth of the hot java between his hands, and in his throat as it traveled down. But a hot cup of coffee wasn't the reason he'd come here. His eyes narrowed at the mutt's back.

"As well as can be expected. She's wondering why you haven't come to visit her. She thinks you blame her for Kikyou's death. She thinks you can't stand to look at her."

That got his attention. Takahashi whipped around, his expression a mix of fury and horror.

"She said that?"

Seeing Kagome's pain hiding so close to the surface today hadn't been easy for him. Knowing that the mutt's usual selfishness had hurt her, yet again, made him want to slug the bastard in the face until he bled out of every orifice. Instead he was careful to keep his voice even and his expression schooled when he replied, "She didn't have to."

The mutt seemed to internalize that and slowly returned to his seat at the table.

"You're really gonna let a woman like that walk out of your life?"

When he didn't answer, he spat, "You're a fucking moron."

Takahashi lifted his head just enough to level a scowl at him. "I don't remember asking your advice, or your opinion," he growled. "Besides, it's none of your goddamn business anyway so stay out of it."

Kouga stood slowly and brought his coffee cup with him to the machine. He shook his head as he lifted the steaming pot off the burner and filled his cup. After taking a test sip he opened a packet of sugar and dumped it in, stirring it around with a spoon.

"None of my goddamn business huh?" he mused with a soft chuckle. He made his way to the door and paused, his hand lingering on the handle.

"Well, I'm taking her to dinner tomorrow night so maybe it is my business."

He took a well timed sip of his drink, just long enough for his words to sink in.

"Maybe you should think about making it yours."

Takahashi's expression made it seem like he'd just swallowed his tongue. His face turned an unhealthy shade of red as his hands slowly clenched into fists atop the table. Just to be certain he drove the point home, Kouga added,

"She's a fantastic woman. Any guy I know would be proud to have her on their arm, including me. So I'm giving you fair warning – I'm done waiting. I've made my move. If you want her back I suggest you make yours."

With that he slipped out the door and paused on the other side to have a more thorough taste of his coffee. It was perfect, not too sweet with just the right amount of bite - exactly the way he liked it.

From inside the break room the sound of ceramic shattering reached his ears, no doubt the mutt's mug meeting an untimely end against the wall. He hid a secretive smile with another sip from his cup and casually eased a hand into his pocket.

Takahashi was a great cop, but sometimes he was so damn predictable.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Talk about a hiatus... I hope you guys liked this chapter! It went through a few different revisions before it felt good enough to post.

I know this isn't exactly a plot heavy chapter, it's more of a go-between to set the scene for what's to come. The main plot is slowly going to be worked into the next few chapters in more obvious ways. Though there's hints of what's to come in this one, only you won't realize it just yet :)

I'm moving to Japan at the end of this week so I'm not sure when my next update will be since access to internet is questionable at this point, but I'm hoping it won't be a long wait. I've got so many ideas I want to get out for you guys so keep your fingers crossed for me!

Any thoughts/recommendations/criticisms you want to send my way, please do. It's been a long while since I've heard anything from my ever faithful readers.

Much love,

Langus

Selected Listening

Astral Weeks – Van Morrison

Back in Your Head – Tegan & Sara

A Fine Frenzy – Near to You


	25. All In

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 25

- All In -

It was Friday night in Tokyo, and that meant neon lights, crowds and pachinko noise. Kagome listened to the faint rumblings of her train departing as she made her way up the subway stairs. A few passersby gave her odd looks, their stares lingering on the light bruises that still stained her skin.

It was hard not to feel self conscious. Her entire adult life she'd been gawked at, but always out of jealous or lust. This was something entirely different. Her bruises weren't something a little Clinique could hide and she could feel the unspoken questions, judgements and accusations in their stares. The expression in their eyes spoke far louder than any words could have. Even worse were the dozens women who looked at her knowingly, sharing their secret in a small sympathetic smile. It left her feeling sick.

"Don't you get it? This isn't normal! It's not right!" she felt like screaming at them, but kept her eyes on the sidewalk and quickened her pace instead.

It was another two blocks of karaoke bars and bright lights before she reached the restaurant district. The place they were meeting wasn't too far now. It was the only reason he'd let her come alone. He'd offered to drive, of course, insisted on it actually, but she'd refused. It felt too good to be independent again. She'd spent the last month cooped up in a hospital room or burrowed away in her apartment, frightened of her own shadow. This was exactly what she needed – a chance to get out into the real world again and far away from all things safe and familiar. It was her own brand of therapy - she'd toss herself into the deep end and try her damndest to remember how to swim. The transition was excruciating, but necessary. All because she refused to let herself become a victim.

Labels had always bothered her – single, taken, girlfriend, wife, mother – but she rebelled against 'victim' harder than any other. If she let her life end with the incident at the pier, if she let who she was before fade into nothing, it was like he'd won. Naraku hadn't broken her then, and he sure as hell wasn't going to do it now that he was dead.

_I will not be a victim. _

Slowing to a stop, she took a minute to adjust her form-fitting black dress and take a deep breath. It'd been a while since she'd been on an honest date. Not since... Well anyway, long enough that she felt sorely out of practice. This whole dating thing used to be so easy. She'd stroll in, oozing confidence and sex, take control and end the night however she wanted – sometimes with an orgasm, sometimes with a different date. This feeling of butterflies and the nervous trembling of her fingers weren't what she was used to.

Putting on a smile, she straightened her back and strode around the corner.

He was waiting for her outside the restaurant, looking casual with his back and one foot braced against the wall. The sound of her high heels against the concrete echoed loudly down the narrow street and caught his attention. He looked up with a smile and a wave that left her feeling momentarily breathless.

There was no denying the man was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. And boy, did he know how to dress – slacks, an indigo dress shirt, and a sleek charcoal blazer... Her eyes roved over his attire appraisingly, unable to find fault with a single thing he was wearing.

"Hey gorgeous," he greeted warmly.

The familiarity of his smile and the warm look in his eyes soothed her nerves like a warm shot. All of the tension and anxiety, the stress and the wondering, evaporated out of her in a single, quiet sigh. He had that affect on a girl. The sneaky bastard.

He offered his arm and she took it wearing a coy smile.

"Hey yourself."

He opened the door to the quiet Russian restaurant they'd decided on and ushered her in.

The atmosphere inside _Firebird_ was cozy and Old World. The dining room smelled of perfumed cigars and old leather, giving the entire place an 'authentic' feel. The walls were bathed in deep, rich tones and elaborate, antique tapestries hung from them like show pieces in an art gallery. There was even an authentic looking velvet curtain that separated the unwashed masses in the front half, from the private VIPs in the back. She felt like she'd been transported directly into the heart of Leningrad.

The hostess held the curtain aside and guided them through.

The back half was only slightly more opulent than the front. There were fewer tables, of course, only six in total, and an elaborate selection of premium aged wines and liquors stood in plain view. The addition of some original oil works hanging on the walls depicting Bacchian scenes was a nice touch, too.

Eyeing the waitress's short skirt and fishnet stockings Kagome had to admit that even the staff looked authentic.

Taking their seats, she thanked the hostess with a smile and listened to Kouga place their wine order.

_This is nice_, she thought, settling into her chair.

There was no drama, no mystery; everything about their date so far was perfectly normal.

_This is exactly how it should be. _

The hostess returned with a bottle of _Mukuzani_, Georgian red, and poured them both a glass before returning to her post at the door.

"Have you ever tried Georgian wine?" Kouga asked with a curious look. She shook her head and smiled as she detected the faint scent of oak from her glass.

"You'll like it," he promised. "It was all I drank the last time I was there."

That got her attention.

"You've been to Russia?"

He nodded and smiled, looking as though he was reliving one or two great memories.

Russia had always struck her as such a far off and distant place, one worlds away from Japan. In her mind it was a rough country of snow and ice, vodka and mafia rule. The cops were dirty, the streets were harsh and the culture was one of the richest in Europe.

She leaned in, eager to hear more.

"I went about ten years ago, for business," he explained, "Had the time of my life!"

"I bet!" she laughed. "Tell me what it was like. Did you meet any mafia leaders or shady politicians?"

"Only a few," he teased with a wink.

"It was more of a vacation than anything. I took some time to wander around St Petersburg, visited the Russian Museum, the Tauride Gardens and some little shops."

She nodded, gently swirling the wine in her glass.

_Inuyasha would never go to Russia_. She tried to picture him studying ancient artwork in a museum or sipping coffee at a little cafe in the square and wound up wearing a small, sardonic smile.

_Pigs would fly first... _

"You know, I think the best part of it all was getting to see a couple shows at the Leningrad rock club. The music was unreal – like nothing you hear here except maybe in those underground clubs."

Her thoughts tuned back in just in time.

"Wow, that sounds amazing," she breathed, hoping he hadn't noticed her momentarily lapse in attention. "I'd love to visit someday."

"I'll take you," he promised, lifting his glass to toast her before taking a sip. "Just say the word and we're on a plane to Moscow."

A blush flushed her cheeks and she hid it with a well-timed sip of wine.

Despite her best efforts, her thoughts stubbornly wandered into dangerous territory over dinner. It started with their appetizer – caviar and aged cheese – crept into the entree – roast duck and venison – and even dessert – a lemon soufflé to share. With every delicious morsel that passed her lips, an errant thought about how much Inuyasha would have loved or hated it entered her mind.

_I could've never brought him here, _she concluded, finishing the last bite of soufflé. He would've checked out the waitress's legs, complained about the haute couture menu, and gulped down the expensive Georgian wine like it was grape juice. He'd been so wrong for her in every way.

Kouga, on the other hand, was well-mannered, cultured, cheerful and smart – everything Inuyasha wasn't. Well, maybe not everything, but from his suit, to his smile, to the way he held the door open for her, he screamed 'safe' in her mind. There were no guessing games when it came to him and she welcomed the change.

Dinner went by far quicker than either of them had expected. It felt like they'd only just finished when the hostess returned to advise them that the restaurant was closing for the evening. After apologizing profusely, they broke out into embarrassed drunken laughter.

"We'll never be allowed back!" she jokingly whispered as he helped her with her jacket.

"What's this 'we'? The reservation's in your name! I'll be back next week for some more of that wine!"

He chuckled shamelessly at the indignant expression that crossed her face. His hands lingered on her shoulders, their warmth radiating through the cloth of her jacket. She smiled broadly, thoroughly enjoying her alcohol induced carefree mood. Letting out a content sigh, she lifted her eyes to his and admired their alluring shade. It was like staring directly at midnight, with all the mystery and possibilities that went with it.

"You have beautiful eyes," she purred, inching closer.

He smiled as his hands reluctantly fell away from her shoulders.

"And you're drunk. Ready to go?"

She nodded, taking his arm as he led her out to the street.

Her cellphone said it was nearly one, but the night felt young and more importantly, she felt alive for the first time since she'd left the hospital. They walked arm in arm down the street, their bodies pressed close, and debated whether a round of karaoke or more drinks were in order. After a few uncoordinated stumbles on her part he decided it was probably best to bring her home.

"You don't want to be anywhere near a moving vehicle when your world starts spinning," he pointed out, and she reluctantly agreed with his wisdom. Typical Kouga, always looking out for her.

This time he didn't take no for an answer when it came to escorting her home. To be fair, she didn't make more than a half-hearted protest. She enjoyed his company. He reminded her of what it was like to laugh again. There was a lightness to him that was a part of his very being and she found it infectious. Like a bee to a flower, she wanted to be closer...wanted more.

"I'm glad I finally got the chance to take you out on a real date," he said as they stood idly on the subway platform waiting for their train to roll in.

'_I'm glad _he's _out of the picture' _is what the cynical half of her brain heard, but the sincerity in his voice made her feel guilty and she averted her gaze down the darkened subway tunnel.

"Me too. I had a lot of fun," she agreed, hazarding a shy smile.

Her words were true. She'd had more fun tonight than she had in a long time and the only thing preoccupying her mind at the moment was how badly she wanted to do it again. All thoughts of Inuyasha had mercifully evaporated with the touch of the cool night air against her skin.

_Maybe I'm ready to move on after all..._

Their train arrived in a blur of red metal and screeching brakes. They managed to push their way onto the crowded car and found an arm hold in the far back corner. Out of necessity she clung to him for support, with her arms wrapped tight around his waist. He didn't appear to mind. In fact, he looked more than a little happy about it and she shamelessly took advantage of the chance to get close to him.

By the time the train had reached her stop she'd taken to pleasantly dozing against his chest.

_So soon?_ she thought disappointed when the train doors opened and he ushered her out onto the bleak platform.

It was a short walk to her apartment from the station. Between the alcohol and her quasi-nap on the train her coordination left something to be desired. He held her up with an arm around her waist and tried not to laugh when she stumbled in a very un-lady like manner.

"It's these heels," she protested. "They're too damn high!"

He merely laughed and helped her to the door of her apartment building.

"Can I... escort you up?"

He seemed unsure for the first time that night. His expression was hopeful, but there was doubt in his eyes – like he expected her to kick his ass to the curb at any second. She studied him a moment before slowly nodding her head.

"Sure."

Her voice had grown soft, all drunken giggles gone, but there was no hesitation. She knew exactly what she was doing despite the butterflies that had returned in full force. The sound of her heart in her ears was a deafening roar by the time they'd made their way up the stairs to her floor.

"We should do this again sometime," he suggested, sounding resolute.

She nodded, "I'd like that."

Their feet slowed in unison and came to a stop outside her door. He seemed hesitant, unsure of what would come next or how far he could take this. She wasn't sure either. Her gut churned anxiously as she dug through her purse for her keys. Her mind was racing, plotting the necessary words in her head to orchestrate a perfectly scripted goodbye.

She pulled in a breath, turned to face him and felt her carefully crafted words evaporate into nothing. He was closer than she'd expected him to be. His face hovered mere inches above hers, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. She swallowed at the light pressure of his hand on her hip and the tender, feather light touch of his fingertips against the underside of her jaw.

"You look beautiful tonight."

She nodded dumbly, unable to take her eyes from his. Deep and powerful, they drew her in like a rip tide and refused to let go. Even if she'd wanted to struggle she couldn't have moved just then. Her heart thrummed loudly in her ears as his thumb brushed across her bottom lip, asking permission. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. In those last seconds before his lips touched hers, her world slowed to an agonizing crawl.

_I'm sorry..._

Her mind betrayed her, whispering words of regret as her lips welcomed his kiss. His touch was like fire through her veins. It burned with an intensity she hadn't been prepared for and didn't know how to handle. A needy moan sounded in the back of her throat and it travelled through her, down into each limb to pulse and simmer like a strong shot of rum. It left her head spinning and she clung weakly to his blazer to keep her balance while his lips explored hers.

His kiss was intoxicating, but it didn't ask anything more from her than she was willing to give and for that she was grateful. The way her mind was reeling, she wasn't sure she could stop him even if she wanted to.

Satiated, he reluctantly pulled away and placed a soft kiss against her cheek.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he promised wearing the smile of a champion. She smiled back and watched after him until he disappeared down the stairs and out of sight.

It was only then that she could breathe. She pressed her lips together, enjoying the residual tingles that travelled through them in tiny electric charges. Damn, the boy could kiss.

Kicking the door to her apartment shut behind her, she slid the locks into place and leaned back against the solid wood. It was then that the guilt set in, like a disease that devoured her elation one heart beat at a time. Guilt had never factored into her equation.

_He hasn't spoken to me in over a month. I have every right to start dating other people! _

She knew she was right, but reassurances like those did nothing to soothe her heart. It turned over in her chest, frustratingly stuck in the past instead of focusing on what could be. It kept whispering the same cruel truth to her, the one admission she hadn't wanted to make – as amazing as it was and for all its leg-weakening power, his kiss had still felt wrong. For no other reason than because Kouga wasn't _him_.

"Dammit."

Was nothing ever easy when it came to the men in her life? Apparently not.

Groaning, she made her way across the living room to the answering machine. It wasn't that she expected anyone to call, but after years of the same routine it'd become habit. She was surprised to see the red light was flashing away. Expecting it to be a call from her Editor, again, she pressed the 'Play' button and made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The booming baritone of Asahi Shimbun's Editor-in-Chief didn't invade her apartment. Instead, there was a prolonged silence, an audible sigh and then-

"Kagome...we need to talk. Call me back."

Her glass overflowed in the sink, the frigid water running noisily over her hands. The answering machine beeped loudly, announcing the end of the message, and then went quiet. Slowly, she turned the kitchen tap off and let the silence permeate her apartment.

_Damn him..._

It was a few minutes before the shock of hearing his voice again wore off enough for her body to move. Bringing the water with her, she slowly made her way back to the living room. The answering machine sat on her table looking innocent enough and she stared at it a long while trying to decide what to do.

A part of her hated him for picking tonight of all nights to call and leave a pathetic message like that on her answering machine. The other side of her pitied him. He'd sounded rough. Maybe this wasn't easy for him either? Not that it made any difference. He'd was the one who'd made the call, or rather, hadn't.

_You made your bed, now go lie in it_, she thought, bitterness creeping in like poison. He'd have to do a whole lot better than that if he wanted to hear from her again. After a month of silence, one two second voice mail wasn't going to cut it. Her finger decisively jammed down the 'Erase' button and another long beep announced that his message was gone.

If only it was as easy to delete him from her life.

Feeling unsettled she headed for bed and silently reminded herself that she didn't owe him a damn thing.

Except maybe her life.

xXx

Kouga was oblivious to the persistent ringing of his cellphone for an entire block.

He wore a smug smile, his thoughts preoccupied with three minutes ago when his lips had been pressed against hers. He could still taste her, the wine, the candied slick of her lip gloss, and it was so much better than he'd ever thought it would be.

It was an effort to keep his feet moving forward when each step only put more distance between them. Distance was necessary though. He couldn't let things go any further than they had tonight and the only way he could ensure that happened was by walking away. She wasn't ready, not yet. He had to keep reminding himself to be patient, but it was so damn hard. Especially when her body reacted to him like it did, always moving closer, blushing and moaning at his touch... She'd drive him half mad before she was done with him.

But he could be patient. Patience was his specialty. After all, he'd waited this long hadn't he?

His phone had stopped ringing by the time he turned the next corner. It didn't matter. Whoever it was could wait. Besides, he was far too distracted to deal with anyone at the moment. His brain was still trying to wrap itself around dinner. He'd gone into it expecting a fun night on the town. It was his way of giving the mutt a kick in the ass so he could get his shit together before someone with real intentions moved in on his territory.

His noble intentions had evaporated the minute he'd seen her walking toward him down the street. Their casual flirtation had started to mean something to him somewhere between 'hello' and dessert and he wasn't sure if he could get his head out of it. His heart had decided it wanted her, in no uncertain terms, and after tonight he wasn't going to be able to hold anything back.

_All in_, he thought as his heart did a somersault in his chest.

At least now he understood the half-crazed obsession that'd driven the mutt to find her, and nearly brought him to the brink of destruction. She was worth putting it all on the line for. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Inuyasha he'd be proud to have her on his arm. He hadn't meant his words the same way then, but the game had changed. If the mutt was too caught up in his own shit to realize that he was about to lose a damn good thing he didn't deserve her to begin with.

Feeling smug, he hopped down the steps to the subway platform. His phone rang again, persistent and annoying. Uttering an irritated 'tch' he fished it out of his pocket and flicked it open.

"Yeah! What?"

There was a heartbeat of silence and then a feminine voice purred over the line into his ear.

"Ignoring my calls Kouga-kun?"

His expression slowly darkened. Of all the people he didn't want calling him tonight, she was at the very top of his list.

_Manipulative bitch._ It was just about the only title that did suit her.

"What do you want?" he growled low into the phone.

He could hear the faint flick of her lighter on the other end of the line, and her long, slow exhale as she lit a cigarette.

"I have a favour to ask. Think you can handle it?" her tone was full of cunning, coy and sex. The honeyed edge to her words set his teeth on edge. He'd seen her in action enough times to know that there was nothing sweet about her.

There was a protracted silence as he debated giving in. She was nothing but trouble, he knew that better than most, but the past few weeks he'd been itching for a distraction and she was the only one who could give him what he wanted. What harm could it do? If it got her out of his hair for a few more months it'd be worth it – short term sacrifice, long term gain.

The Eastbound train screeched into the station, changed passengers and departed in echoes of screeching metal before he answered,

"Yeah, alright fine."

Her brisque, "I'll send you the details" was followed by the sharp sound of the dial tone in his ear. It was just like her – purring minx one minute, all business the next. The woman had some serious issues when it came to dealing with men.

Frowning, he closed his phone, tilted his head back against the wall and let out a deep sigh. Talk about a buzz kill.

Still, a wry smile lifted a corner of his mouth as his train pulled up. Unexpected late night phone calls aside, tonight had exceeded every single one of his expectations and fulfilled the ones he hadn't dared hope for.

The mutt didn't stand a chance.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Sorry about the wait guys! I had a completely different chapter ready to go for 25 but it didn't feel right so I had to go back to the drawing board. The good news is that the next chapter is almost entirely written so it will be posted very soon. Sometimes writer's block works in mysterious ways :) To all my American readers, happy Thanksgiving weekend!

Reviews and comments are of course welcomed and appreciated. If any of you are interested in reading about the inspiration for some of my latests chapters or want a 'behind the scenes' look, so to speak, please feel free to take a tour of my journal at LJ - livejournal. com/ langus_fiction

See you soon,

Langus

Selected Listening

toe – The Book (Album)

Anya Marina – Satellite Heart


	26. Snap

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 26

– Snap –

_At what point does the pain stop?_

Kagome wondered this while staring at the charred remains of the Vica Cafe from the sidewalk across the street. With her head tilted to the side, she studied the blackened bones of the burnt out coffee shop and felt an odd sense of camaraderie. That emptiness, the worthlessness, mourning the loss of something that had once been great... She understood them all too well.

Moving on was a whole lot easier to say than it was to do. His voicemail the other night had made that abundantly clear. A part of her regretted her rash decision to delete it. Thoughts of Inuyasha made her simmer with rage, but that didn't change the fact that she missed him. She missed the golden hue of his eyes and the way the tone of his voice could make her shiver. She missed the fierceness in his kiss and the bluntness of his words. On bad days she even missed his tantrums. There were a lot of things she missed about him.

Dinner with Kouga had been nice. It'd shown her what things could be like, how they could be different, but she wasn't ready to make that leap. At the end of the night she'd come home to an empty apartment and that wasn't going to change any time soon. How could she possibly be ready to move on when her heart was still so wrapped up in the past?

The worst part was, the more she thought about it the clearer the answer to her problems became - she would have to talk to him. She needed to hear his answer to the one question she wasn't sure she could handle knowing the truth to-

_Why? _

Why had he left that day at the hospital and not come back? Was it because of Kikyou? Why didn't he care at all how she was doing? Was it so easy for him to turn off his emotions, just like that? Why why why why why?

Her mind had an impressive ability to default to the worst case scenario for each unknown answer –

_He blames you for Kikyou's death. _

_He could never love a liar and a murderer. _

_The very sight of you disgusts him. _

_He never loved you in the first place. _

It just went on, and on, like that, in a never-ending barrage of self-effacing, self-destructive statements. Her mind's capacity for emotional torture was so much worse than anything Oniguomo or his brother, Naraku, had dished out.

Pulling out a notebook from her purse, she scribbled a few hasty notes about the cafe for the arson piece she was working on. She'd decided to play up how the loss of the little coffee shop was affecting the community, how they were mourning their beloved, quaint cafe. She needed something to go on. After all, she wasn't getting much from the law enforcement side of things. The cops still had no suspects, no motive, and no luck tracking down the mystery waitress who'd been working the night of the fire.

She watched a few passersby, hoping for inspiration, but not a single one of them cast so much as a cursory glance at the blackened ruins across the street.

"Well, so much for that angle,"she muttered, hastily scratching out the few notes she'd jotted down.

It was typical. Everyone was so caught up in their own lives they couldn't even be bothered to notice something had been taken from them. Sure, it was only a small cafe but it'd been there for over a decade. What exactly did it take for people to wake up and take notice?

_Was a date with Kouga what it took for him to finally call me? _

It hadn't occurred to her earlier, but the more she thought about it the more sense it made. The timing was too perfect. After six weeks of silence he chose that night, of all nights, to finally make a move?

So what – in a sudden fit of jealousy he decided to swoop in at the last second and take her back for himself?

_Like Hell..._, she thought, tasting resentment in her mouth.

No longer in the mood to write much of anything, she stuffed her notebook back into her purse and pulled out her cell instead. It was time to call a cab and get to the office. Kami only knew how many emails were waiting in her Inbox.

With the lunch time rush over, the street traffic around her eventually slowed and the block became deserted. The cadence of confident footsteps echoed off the concrete buildings and drew steadily closer to where she stood, finally stopping just off to her right. Gripping her cellphone tight, she cast a suspicious glance at the well dressed stranger standing next to her.

Paranoia and fear were her constant companions these days. Everyone was an assassin, every well dressed stranger a yakuza out for revenge. The man to her right seemed to have very little interest in her and a whole lot of attention for the cafe across the street. His light eyes scrutinized the damage while his mouth pressed into a frown.

"Did you go there often?" she asked, with a nod at the cafe.

"No," was his response – clipped and direct. She studied him closer, noting his well tailored suit and the light sheen of his leather loafers. At the very least he was a man with expensive taste.

Never one to back down easily, she prodded him again. Perhaps he was a former customer? He might just be the personal link that would give life to her floundering story.

"Do you know what happened?"

"No."

Pursing her lips, she tried a different angle. There was only one reason she could think of that a man like him would be interested in the demise of such a little unknown place. Behind the designer clothes, fancy cars, money and criminal records, or lack thereof, men were all the same weren't they? Kesuke had taught her that.

A sad smile briefly crossed her lips at the memory of the yakuza who'd sacrificed his life for hers. During those long hours when all she could feel was pain, talking to him had helped take her mind off of things. The cops and doctors all assumed she'd developed Stockholm syndrome, but she knew better. At his core, Kesuke had been a good man and he'd deserved better than to go out like that.

Remembering the story he'd told her about his wife and how they'd met, she turned to the man next to her with a knowing look.

"It's a shame about that cute little waitress they had working here...Rin I think her name was?" she wagered, lifting her gaze to find his golden eyes fixed on her in an intimidating glare. Unperturbed, she reeled him in the rest of the way.

"I hear the police are looking to hold her responsible for the fire. They say it was arson, you know. "

She added in a disappointed 'cluck' of her tongue for good measure and shook her head. The man's glare darkened considerably and she took a cautious step back.

"It would be wise to maintain a shred of journalistic integrity when you write your editorial Ms. Higurashi. Character defamation lawsuits are messy business."

She felt her back grow straighter with every well placed word out of his mouth. Holding her nose marginally higher (which made little difference since he was still a good head taller than her) she shot back,

"I've built my career on my journalistic integrity. The cops _are_ looking at her for this, I can promise you that much," she bluffed.

"I know."

He didn't sound concerned, or even the least bit worried, merely _inconvenienced_. It was an odd reaction for someone to have. Who exactly was this guy, and just how involved was he?

"If you know where she is...," she began, hazarding a glance between him and the cafe. He didn't give anything away, but her reporter's instincts were telling her she wasn't far from the truth.

"You should tell her to turn herself in. She only looks more guilty hiding like this."

He grunted quietly at her warning, but didn't linger. With a sniff of disgust aimed in her direction, he continued his purposeful stride down the sidewalk. She watched him go until he disappeared around the next corner and then let out a frustrated sigh.

Well, that was one less lead she could count on. That seemed to be a bit of a theme with this story. The neighbours knew nothing. The owners refused to talk. No one had seen hide nor hair of the only potential witness – the waitress who'd been working the night of the fire. Until now... That well dressed stranger, whoever he was, knew where she was or at the very least knew how to find her. This story had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

"People seriously underestimate how much work goes into good journalism these days," she muttered, flipping her phone open. She quickly scrolled through the names in her address book and stopped at the number for the 29th Division Tokyo Police Headquarters.

It was time to call in a favour and she knew just the man to ask.

xXx

The silence in the Evidence Locker of Tokyo's 29th precinct was interrupted by the faint sounds of boxes being shuffled. Down aisle six, Detective Takahashi pulled another box from the shelf, frowned, and set it aside with the rest. He tossed his jacket across the small stack that'd steadily accumulated to his right and took a moment to roll up his sleeves.

"They have to be here somewhere," he muttered, scanning the shelves with his arms crossed.

Evidence didn't just disappear from the Evidence Locker. That didn't change the fact that he'd been rifling around for nearly an hour and wasn't any closer to finding his case files than when he'd arrived. He wasn't any closer to forgetting Kouga's warning either.

"_I've made my move. If you want her back, I suggest you make yours." _

A sudden burst of rage sent the box in his hands flying. It slammed into the concrete floor with a dull thud and skidded to a stop ten feet down the aisle.

_Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! _

He was tempted to throw another box but sat himself down atop one of the piles instead with a heavy sigh. Putting his head between his knees, he tried to rein his temper in.

He'd been lying to himself for weeks, and not very well either. He'd told himself that a clean break was best. 'The right thing to do is usually the hardest thing,' or so the saying went. Well, considering how absolutely fucking miserable he'd been he figured he had to at least be on the right track.

When that didn't work, he tried to convince himself that he didn't need her in his life complicating things. That was followed by the laughable whopper that he was doing just fine without her.

And then, of course, there was the one truth that was the hardest for him to swallow - she deserved better. She deserved to be happy and there were so many things he couldn't give her – protection, reliability, intimacy... If she couldn't get those things from him, then she deserved the chance to find someone who could give them to her.

He told himself he could handle her moving on if that were the case. Despite a lifetime of selfishness and acting in his own best interests, he had the capacity to be that selfless when it really mattered.

What a crock of shit.

He wasn't okay – far from it. And this... Shit - this situation with her was like starting back at square one! All it had taken was a few words from Kouga and whatever miniscule progress he'd made was as good as gone. The fresh scab that'd just barely healed over his heart had been violently torn off and he was left standing there, helpless, as he watched it bleed out all over again.

_Kouga... That bastard... !_

It wasn't his fault but he needed to blame someone and he was so goddamn sick of blaming himself. She could have picked anyone but him. A sound of disgust left his lips as he slowly closed his hand into a fist. The urge to hit someone was damn near uncontrollable. One wrong word, one sideways glance he didn't like and...

"_You're not doing yourself any favours here Takahashi." _

The Superintendent had levelled those words at him barely a week earlier after he'd engaged in an impromptu shouting match with an officer in the gallery.

"_Get that temper of yours under control or you'll be living at that desk of your until you retire." _

'Easier said than done,' he thought, blowing out some of his rage.

The Superintendent was one of the few people he respected, but even that didn't change a thing. The problem wasn't the job, or the people - the problem was her. And until he could get her out of his head he wasn't going to be any good to anyone. That was why Kouga couldn't be the one. Living without her in his life he could survive, eventually. Watching Kouga flaunt her around as his newest arm candy, he couldn't.

With a shake of his head he slowly got back to his feet, determined to find what he'd come looking for.

"Oi! What the hell? You better put those back!"

Perfect. Inuyasha scowled at the uniform storming down the aisle towards him.

"You lookin' for something in particular or do you just enjoy taking the Evidence Locker apart for fun?"

"Yeah, you know Spring cleaning and all that," he quipped. "My case files are missin'. They're supposed to be right here."

He gestured at the shelf in question and the uniform shrugged.

"So someone checked them out. What do you want me to do about it?"

There was a reason why cops like this guy were hidden away in the underbelly of the station doing Evidence Locker duty. They were absolutely fucking useless.

"Don't you think it's a little odd that someone else, besides me, is checking out _my_ evidence files? Don't you guys check up on that sort of thing?"

The uniform chuckled humourlessly.

"That ain't my job, Buddy. I watch the evidence to make sure it doesn't go walking. That's it. Play office politics upstairs. You don't like it, take it up with HR and have them change my job description."

Inuyasha took a deep breath, let it out nice and slow and counted back from ten. His fists were aching to meet flesh, but it wouldn't get him what he needed. It took every ounce of willpower in him to open his fists and cross his arms instead.

Speaking in the calmest, most rational tone he could manage given the circumstances he said, "I need a name. Who signed out my files?"

"So what, you can storm out of here and leave me to clean up your mess? Not happening," the uniform barked with a sarcastic laugh.

"Clean this shit up and come see me at the desk on your way out."

His shoulders trembled from holding himself back as he watched the prick saunter off down the aisle toward his desk. Visions of jumping him from behind and beating that smug look off his face brought a smile to his lips, but his feet remained rooted to the concrete floor. For once, he would play by the rules. Besides, his job couldn't afford any more 'incidents'.

Turning his back on the uniform lounging at his desk, he quietly made his way back to the piles of boxes he'd stacked on the floor. Bending down, he picked up the first of many and put it back on the shelf.

Thirty minutes and a lot of lifting later, he wiped his hands clean and made his way to the reception desk. The uniform, too busy reading the newspaper on his computer screen, didn't even bother to acknowledge him. Leaning over the counter he slowly pushed the laptop screen shut and levelled the dipshit wannabe cop with a steady glare.

"The files."

The guy gave him a pointed look and re-opened his computer screen. He took his sweet ass time logging into the database, looking thoroughly inconvenienced by having to actually do his job.

"I need the case file numbers. We've got procedures here that need to be followed, ya know."

Inuyasha ground his teeth and rattled off the case numbers. He'd had them memorized for years. As if he could possibly forget them. He watched the man's fat fingers type each digit into the database. He clicked through a few more screens and then took his time reading the last one before answering.

"Yup, both are checked out, just like I said. If you'd checked in at the desk like you're supposed to you could've saved yourself a lot of trouble."

The guy kept ranting, but Inuyasha wasn't listening. Who the hell was digging through _his_ files?

"I want a name," he growled. He wasn't in any kind of mood to keep dicking around with this guy. Begrudgingly the officer turned the laptop towards him.

"See for yourself."

He stared at the highlighted name for a good long minute before it sunk in.

"You're sure?"

The uniform nodded and flipped the computer back around.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Everyone's gotta scan their ID to check out evidence. The whole system's automated."

"Bastard..." he muttered under his breath. "That goddamn sonofabitch!"

xXx

The gallery was a flurry of noise and activity by the time he'd made his way up the six flights of stairs from the basement. He'd hoped taking the stairs would calm him down a bit, but it hadn't made a lick of difference. His eyes narrowed at his target, who was too preoccupied chatting up one of the new female detectives at the coffee bar to notice.

Heads turned as he stormed toward the pair, wearing an expression that was one part fury and two parts murderous intent. Someone from the crowd tried to take his arm and pull him back but he shook them off as easily as he would a fly. Nothing could stop him now.

This wasn't just about the files anymore. The closer he got the stronger the images became – that scum sucking bastard and Kagome holding hands over dinner, him kissing her at the end of their date, his body pressed into hers against a wall while his hands explored curves he never should've been allowed to touch...

Maybe when all was said and done, he could try for an 'insanity' defence...

Kouga saw him coming from a few feet away and turned slowly, almost casually, to fix him with a patronizing look – "I win" it said, and that's when he lost it.

Any control he might have had evaporated in that last step that closed the distance between them. He wasn't even sure Kouga saw the punch coming. If he did, he didn't make any move to block it. His fist met Kouga's face with enough force to snap his head sharply to the left. He didn't give him a chance to recover before he tackled him to the ground and landed another blow across his cheek.

It took three uniforms to pull him off, and even then it took every ounce of his self control not to use the true strength he possessed to resist them. Kouga got slowly to his feet, with one hand massaging his jaw.

"You wanna explain what that was all about?" he asked, not sounding the least bit surprised.

"You son of a bitch," Inuyasha spat, still struggling against his restrainers. "What the hell gives you the right to start digging through my cases?"

Silence settled over the crowd of onlookers. Cops were more territorial than dogs when it came to their work. There were some lines you just didn't cross and mucking about uninvited in someone else's cases was one of them.

Kouga shrugged, nonchalant.

"Is that the real reason you hit me, or are you just pissed that I took your woman out to dinner? You can lie to yourself all you want Inuyasha, but call a spade a spade."

He growled and made another move to attack but was interrupted by the Superintendent's booming baritone.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Superintendent Saito took one look at the scene in front of him and stormed into his office. "Takahashi! Yamada! In my office NOW!"

Kouga gave him a cutting look and followed the Superintendent inside. They looked like a pair of schoolboys being sent to the Principal's office for detention. Perfect - just what he didn't need. With a frustrated growl he shook off the arms loosely holding him back, straightened his jacket and followed.

Superintendent Saito was known for being a well-put together man. Despite being in his 60s he was strong and agile with a full head of hair and balls of steel. It was only in the last few years that tiny wisps of grey had come to grace his sideburns. Rather than make him look old, they gave him a distinguished appearance worth envying. His suits were impeccably tailored, his collar starched and there wasn't so much as a pen mark on the cuff of his shirt. Not bad for a guy who didn't have a woman at home.

He was a man dedicated to his job and the people who worked for him. He lived, slept, ate and breathed Tokyo's 29th precinct and he was its heart - which is why they both knew this wasn't going to bode well for either of them.

"Shut the damn door!" he demanded the moment Inuyasha stepped into the office. He obeyed without complaint and fell in step beside Kouga in front of the desk.

"Take a seat, Detectives."

The Superintendent's tone broke no argument but both of them remained standing, their legs locked stiffly in place.

"I'll stand thanks," Inuyasha grumbled, casting a sidelong glance at his rival.

"You'll keep your goddamn mouth shut until I ask you to open it."

The Superintendent's rage was palpable, which was something completely new to both of them. In all the years they'd worked together, Inuyasha had never seen him this riled up. He was always the level head, the one who remained cool in a crisis. He left the hot headed showboating to the younger guys on the team – said he'd grown out of it years ago. Today though... Today he was a tempest with a gale force head wind.

Stopping suddenly, he slammed his palm down on the desk and pointed at the gallery beyond the door.

"You wanna tell me just what the hell was going on out there? I come in to find two of Tokyo's best detectives going at it like a couple of drunken frat boys!"

Kouga spoke first which was just as well. Inuyasha found himself far too busy restraining the urge to attack for his words to be of any good. Kouga's tone was reserved and professional as he calmly explained what'd happened. To his credit, he didn't exaggerate or lie but he didn't tell the whole truth either and he sure as hell wasn't doing him any favours.

When Kouga had finished re-hashing his blameless sob story, the Superintendent turned expectant eyes on him. What was he going to say that hadn't already been said? He stared back, his expression blank. Whatever consequences were coming, he wasn't going to try and duck out of them like some kind of pussy.

Saito let out a heavy sigh and slowly lowered himself into his chair. Out of habit, his hand smoothed his glossy black hair neatly to the side and then flicked dismissively toward the door.

"Fine. Yamada, get lost and get the hell out of my precinct."

Kouga bowed deeply, knowing better than to say a word, and quietly stepped out the door.

Alone, he and the Superintendent stared each other down in silence. The Superintendent's eyes had always looked small to him, hidden behind heavy bags wrought by decades of long nights and little sleep. His eyes looked even smaller now, narrowed into fine points as he calculated out a suitable punishment.

"You need help," he stated finally, his tone decisive.

Inuyasha was proud that he'd spent 10 years on the force working under the man. He respected him more than anyone else, but even that couldn't stop the vitriol from spilling out of his mouth.

"Is that your professional opinion?" he snapped.

The Superintendent gave him an impatient look and he instantly felt a pang of guilt. If it weren't for the man's unrivalled patience he would've been out of a job a long time ago. Not too many Superintendents had what it took to see the potential in a failed cop and an alcoholic to boot. For five years Superintendent Saito had been the only one in his corner telling him to keep his chin up and out of trouble, but today his corner was empty. Apparently, as of today, his limitless well of patience had gone dry.

"As a friend, I'm telling you you need help. Whatever it is that's been eating away at you, deal with it. I won't have you tearing through my precinct like some riled up bull every time someone looks at you the wrong way! If you need counselling..."

"I don't need any goddamn shrink messing with my head," he ground out.

Sighing in disappointment, the Superintendent tucked the business card back in his desk drawer and folded his hands in front of him.

"You say you don't need help? Fine. I'm not going to force it on you."

Inuyasha nodded his thanks, but the expression on the Superintendent's face told him this was far from over. The man levelled him with a stern look and calmly laid everything out on the table.

"I am done giving you chances."

The words hit him like a steel-toed boot to the gut. He pulled in a deep breath to steady himself and slowly let it out. If there was any sympathy on the Superintendent's face it was brief and gone within the blink of an eye.

"From now on, when I say 'jump' you're going to say 'how high?'. When I say 'get me a coffee' you'll ask me how many sugars I'd like in it."

Inuyasha could feel his face morphing into a grimace of disgust. He'd put in too many years to become the office bitch. In response, the Superintendent's voice grew louder and more insistent. If he wasn't prepared to listen to ultimatums, apparently the man was going to force him.

"Inuyasha, I've let you get away with a lot because of your talent and your history, but this is the end of the line. We've all got a case that screws us up, but we learn to deal with it. Get whatever issues you have under control or the next time you so much as sniff in the wrong direction you'll be out of a job."

The breath he'd been holding escaped in a shaky exhale of relief.

_I'm safe_, he thought with an echo of disbelief. He hadn't expected that. _Thank kami for this one small mercy._ Without this there would be nothing left to tie him down to earth. Without that link he'd lose himself completely.

"Have I made myself clear?"

The Superintendent's demand was met with a clear, if soft, "Yes, sir. Perfectly."

He regarded him carefully before slowly nodding his head. Leaning back into his chair, he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a file. Wearing a smug look, he pushed it across the desk towards him.

"There's a witness I want you to talk to about the arson case," he said, nodding pointedly to the file.

Inuyasha scowled as he begrudgingly picked the folder up off the desk and flipped it open.

"I'm not a babysitter," he groused, snapping the file shut. "This isn't even my case!"

The Superintendent got up from behind his desk and smiled as he opened the door.

"You talk like you've got a choice, Detective. She's in interrogation three. And bring her a cup of coffee while you're at it. She's been waiting there a while."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ I would like to extend a very special thank you to _Kinky Hoe_, _Eggry_, _MISS CAMRY_, _TiffanyM_ and _loulou *nsi* _for your kind words of encouragement and support. It's thanks to you that this next update is out as soon as it is. I hope you enjoy the read.

To the rest of my wonderful, faithful readers - if you feel so inclined I'd love to hear your thoughts as well. Please don't be shy :)

Chapter 27 will be out soon.

Until next time,

Langus


	27. Trouble Will Find You

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 27 –

Trouble Will Find You

Inuyasha kicked open the door to interrogation room three with the toe of his shoe, ignored the petite woman sitting at the table, and took a seat opposite her. After setting his coffee down, he took a second to flip through the file folder in his hand. What a goddamn waste of time. He already had enough on his plate without babysitting some stupid arson case, too. It wasn't even a homicide for Kami's sake! This thing never should've landed in his lap, or on the Superintendent's desk.

_What's next? Are they going to send every traffic violation and B and E my way too?_

Wearing a sour expression, he took in the woman across from him with a passing glance. There was nothing remarkable about her. She was small and mousey looking with narrow features and dark, shoulder length hair. At the very least she could've been attractive.

Resigning himself to his fate, he sighed heavily and droned, "Thanks for coming in Miss...?"

She regarded him carefully before answering, "Aoki. Tsugumi Aoki."

Her tone was more confident than he'd expected it to be, but that wasn't saying much.

"Right... Miss Aoki. I hear you have some information for us about the arson at the Vica Cafe?"

He leaned back in his chair and took a careful sip of coffee. It tasted like burnt grounds – fantastic. Ten years he'd been working out of the 29th and had yet to taste a cup that wasn't swill. Only the finest for the city's best crime fighting force...

Grimacing, he set the cup down and flipped through the file some more.

No witnesses. _Until now_, he corrected. No leads. No viable motive. The owners hadn't filed a claim with the insurance company so it wasn't some hopped up insurance scam. Basically what he'd been given was a manila folder of dead ends.

Sighing loudly he snapped the file folder shut. This girl was exactly the kind of witness he didn't have time for – meek, nervous, needing a hand hold and a babysitter all the way to trial. If this was his punishment, Saito must've been more pissed off than he thought.

He watched impatiently as she took a long moment to chew over what she wanted to say.

"Look, Miss, if-"

"I saw something," she blurted out.

"What'd you see?"

"A man."

He made a show of jotting down a couple notes on the legal pad he'd brought along:

_- Saw a man_

"Can you describe this _man_ that you saw?"

His tone was borderline patronizing but he didn't care. The sooner she blurted out the usual 'Japanese male, medium height and build' he could thank her for her time and be on his way.

"It was dark so..." she began apologetically.

_Here we go..._, he thought.

"Well, I didn't get that good of a look at him, but..."

He collected the file folder and legal pad together and was half way to standing when she reached into her purse and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She pushed it across the table towards him and nervously snapped her purse shut.

"I drew this sketch of his face. It's not all that great and I don't know if it'll help, but I thought it couldn't hurt if you were looking for the guy."

Curious, he set his stuff back on the table and picked up the drawing. Unfolding it slowly, he was surprised to find a near perfect, detailed sketch of a face he'd seen before.

_Well, son of a bitch..._

"You could have a career in law enforcement as a sketch artist," he said as he flattened the sketch out on the table.

"Where did you say you saw this guy?"

"In the alley, behind the cafe. I was on my way home from school. I...stayed late at the library to cram for finals and when I was walking home I saw that guy toss something into the big garbage bin behind the cafe."

"So he was tossing out some trash. What makes you think he's our guy?"

"He just...seemed sketchy. And I was pretty sure I saw smoke coming from the garbage bin right after he threw whatever it was in there."

Studying the sketch, he nodded slowly to himself. The man had a haggard look about him – unshaven, sunken cheeks, a bald head. 'Sketchy' was certainly one way to describe him.

"So you saw this man throw something into the garbage bin, and then you saw smoke starting to come out, and you didn't think to call anyone – like the fire department or the police? If you'd bothered to call maybe they could've kept the place from burning down."

"I... I'm sorry. I guess I was scared..."

He lifted an eyebrow and watched the girl across from him nervously pick at her nails. Yeah, she was scared alright, but it wasn't for the right reason. What was she hiding?

"You must have incredible eye sight too," he ventured. "It's the only way I can figure that you were able to sketch such a perfect picture of this guy's face after seeing him for a few seconds from your vantage point, across a poorly lit street at night."

The girl's mouth audibly snapped shut and stared nervously down at the table.

"Let's start again," he suggested, laying the sketch down between them. "This time, I want the truth."

Her shoulders were trembling, he noticed. The girl was shaking like a leaf, which only seemed to confirm what he'd already guessed – she knew more than she was letting on. Her foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the linoleum floor. He could see her debating it over in her head – to talk or not to talk. Whatever the consequences were for talking, they had her scared. Not surprisingly, she erred on the side of self-preservation and stood, hastily grabbing her purse off the table.

"I knew this was a mistake," she muttered, shaking her head. "Just forget I was here."

_Perfect. Losing an eye witness was exactly the kind of fuck up he couldn't afford right now._

"Now, just hold on a minute."

He tried to placate her but his words had no effect. She stormed her way to the door, only stopping when he put out his arm to block her exit.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I have to be at work soon," she demanded, nearly on the verge of tears. She tried to duck around his arm but he stood his ground in front of the door.

"You're the only witness to a crime Ms. Aoki, and unless you tell me your side of the story you just admitted to being an accessory to arson. That's a jail-able offence."

Her eyes grew wide at his words and her mouth set into a rigid line.

"So I think it would be in your best interest to park your ass in that chair and tell me the truth," he advised, sounding smug.

"I already told you what I saw. Can't you just leave me alone?"

There were tears in her eyes, but he'd seen better sob stories and wasn't the least bit phased. Stubbornly, he refused to move and watched fascinated as her expression changed from scared and anxious, to annoyed and determined.

"Look, I came here voluntarily because I wanted to help and you're trying to make me look like the bad guy. The r_eal _bad guy is still out there and you have no idea where to start looking for him. I gave you what you needed so go do your job and leave me out of it."

She stared him down until he begrudgingly held up his hands and stepped away from the door. Not wasting any time, she immediately threw it open. Wearing a scowl he watched her disappear down the hall. It was obvious her story about coming home from the library was as bogus as her name, but the picture seemed legit. It was more to go on than he'd had twenty minutes ago, which meant that despite losing a witness out the front door he was still doing something right.

Sketch in hand, he grabbed his cup of swill off the table and retreated to his desk. Whoever the guy in the picture was, he'd seen his face before which could only mean one of two things – either he was dead, which wasn't likely given the circumstances, or he'd arrested him before. A few minutes with the database should be all he'd need to be one step closer to closing this farce of a case.

It wasn't easy to ignore the stares and whispers that followed him through the gallery to his desk. He'd had years of practice though and Kouga was smart enough to make himself scarce. It was the first smart thing he'd done all year.

Blowing out a frustrated sigh, he slumped into his chair and half-pounded, half-typed on his computer keyboard. The pressure that'd exploded out of him earlier had dwindled, fizzling out of him like a slowly deflating balloon. It would continue to simmer somewhere deep inside his chest though. It always did. The feeling never truly disappeared, and it wouldn't until he did something to fix the real problem. The Superintendent's warning from earlier cycled through his thoughts. It didn't take a shrink for him to figure out what the problem was – the problem was her.

Kagome Higurashi; the broken, scared girl he'd abandoned at the hospital; the fiery tempered vixen who put him in his place as quickly as he stepped out of it. It was hard to believe they were one in the same. In his world she was the only person he cared about, but it wasn't enough. Guys like him didn't end up with women like her, and there was a good reason for it.

Nothing good for her could possibly come from being with him. She'd only wind up getting hurt again, or worse. When it came to personal relationships he had a solid track record of failure. He'd failed every single person who'd ever mattered in his life and she was just the latest victim on his list. He was finally starting to accept that numbing truth now, and what it meant for the future. Still, knowledge and acceptance were two entirely different beasts. Knowing she was better off without him was one thing, but it didn't make it any less cutting to go home to an empty apartment at night, or hear Kouga say he was taking her to dinner.

He'd found ways to cope, mainly out of desperation than anything else. He spent long days at the precinct filling out endless piles of paperwork, chained to his desk like some dog. It was one of the many consequences from the fallout of the Naraku Takeda incident. The Superintendent hadn't taken kindly to learning that he'd known about Kagome's abduction for days before Kouga finally called in back up, or that he'd killed the Boss of a top yakuza gang rather than bring him in so he could be grilled for information.

It seemed strange, but the desk duty was actually a blessing in disguise. It gave him a reason to get up in the morning and something to keep his mind occupied during the day. He tried to stay at the precinct as long as humanly possible, but even he had to leave at some point and return to his empty apartment.

It was the nights that were hardest. He'd come to loathe the long hours before dawn where he'd lay awake staring at the ceiling. He tried to focus on his cases, especially the mystery of Lucky and Inokuma's gold-bullet killer, but his mind always found its way back to her. There was always a trigger, some small, insignificant, completely unrelated thing that would make him suddenly remember the way she smelled or the softness of her hair in his hands. He'd remember the alluring taste of her lips, with their soft, demanding touch, and the feeling of her body wrapped up in his. Then he'd wind up slipping into a dream so painfully vivid that when he woke up he was even more of a wreck than when he'd gone to bed.

Blowing out a sigh, he gulped down what was left of his cold coffee and decided to head out for some air. Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, he barely had time to slip it over his shoulders before his desk phone rang.

_Figures._

Scowling, he jammed the receiver to his ear and barked, "What."

There was a moment of silence and then,

"It's me."

The noise of the precinct faded into silence as he slowly sat back down in his chair. His mind couldn't process the words fast enough. The sleepless nights he'd spent agonizing over this exact moment flooded back in an instant.

How many ways had he thought to tell her "I'm sorry"? How many times had he been one digit away from calling her just to hear the sound of her voice again? Countless. Now, she was calling him and he couldn't think of a goddamn thing to say.

Thankfully, she didn't give him the chance. Without waiting for a response, she hastily added, "I need a favour."

"A favour?" he managed to mutter, his voice hoarse.

What kind of favour could she possibly want from him?

"I need you to look someone up in the system."

Nevermind that it was entirely against the rules... But when had he ever been one for sticking to the rules? He could almost hear her saying it now.

"Her name is Rin, no last name. She used to work at the Vica Cafe, that coffee shop arson you guys are investigating."

Well, today was just his lucky day. He typed the name into the computer database as she spelled it out and waited for the screen to load. A sincere "How've you been?" rested on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't seem to force it out. It seemed ridiculous to ask now, after so long.

"Rin Aomori... She's employed by Goldstar Entertainment. They usually hire hostesses if I remem-"

"Does it say what club she works at?"

There was no hint of the almost purr-like way she used to speak to him on the phone, or that voice she used when she liked to talk dirty. Her tone was all business - brusque, clear and impatient. It hit him like a loaded shotgun. If he had any doubts that they were over before, there were none left now.

Swallowing hard, he pushed down the ache of regret and focused on the screen in front of him.

"Is this for a piece you're working on or somethin'?"

Silence answered. Sensing her impatience, he jotted down the name of a club and its address to read it back to her.

His palms were sweaty against the desk while he waited for whatever was going to come next. In the end she merely uttered a brief, "Thanks" and hung up. No shouting. No anger. No poorly worded apologies on his part. Nothing...

The room suddenly felt stifling. He slowly lowered the phone into its cradle.

She'd moved on.

It was like a swift kick to the balls when he was already down and goddamn did it ever have a bite.

It was a few minutes before he noticed the photo staring back at him on his computer screen. Rin Aomori was an average looking girl – petite and mousy looking with narrow features and dark shoulder length hair. Recognition clicked over in his brain and he smiled to himself.

"Well, fuck me...," he muttered, jotting down the address of Club VOSS. It was about time the universe gave him a break.

xXX

Business at Club VOSS was unusually slow for a Thursday afternoon, but Nobu Furukawa wasn't concerned. Once happy hour hit the place would be crawling with salarymen. The economy might be in the shitter but as far as he saw it, he had the safest job in Tokyo. No matter how bad their money troubles got, the customers of Club VOSS would always find a way to scrounge up enough cash to spend a few hours with their favourite girl.

The reason? He gave them what they wanted; he sold them an unattainable dream underwritten by the belief that love was something anyone could have (as long as they were willing to pay for it).

'Love' was a word used all too frequently in his line of business. The customers loved the girls. The girls loved their money. He loved their business. The search for love made him a steady profit. In return, he did his best to help his customers forget their miserable existence for as long as their money held out.

Since he was everyone's Wishmaster he didn't often find himself in a bad situation but he found himself in one today. Trouble had walked in his front door and stood at his bar wearing Armani and leather.

The man across from him was someone every businessman in the district knew by name but few had met in person. It was a rare honour and one he wished had never been bestowed upon him. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Kobayashi-san in his club but every time he saw his back he prayed it would be for the last time.

He bowed deeply and nervously slicked back his dark hair. He suddenly felt overly self-conscious about his appearance and didn't enjoy it one bit.

"Kobayashi-san, to what do I owe the honour of your presence?"

He heard his sniff of disdain and looked up to find him slowly looking around the nearly empty club.

"I heard you have a new girl. Where is she?"

Nobu held back his resentment and righted himself. Dammit! Every time Kobayashi-san took a liking to one of his girls he never saw her again. Kami only knew what he did with them. He always paid for them in full, of course, but Club VOSS depended on its regulars. When his girls disappeared so did their customers. Kobayashi-san may have been richer than any man in Tokyo but his money only went so far.

He chewed the inside of his cheek while pondering the wisdom of outright lying to him. Kobayashi-san wasn't the kind of man who asked questions he didn't already know the answer to. The best he could do was attempt to dissuade him.

"Yes...," Nobu began hesitantly, nervously adjusting his collar, "we do have one new girl but she isn't here today. I'm afraid she's very inexperienced. I'm not sure she would be to your liking. Perhaps one of the other girls would provide better entertainment?"

If he'd ever wondered why half of Tokyo was terrified of this man, his question was answered by the glare that was sent his way. Kobayashi-san didn't suffer fools gladly it seemed. The sudden weakness in his knees made that abundantly clear. Stumbling over himself, he bowed deeply in apology.

"Of course, I apologize. I was only trying to ensure you had the best experience possible at our establishment. Please forgive me for being so presumptuous."

As much as it sickened him to grovel at this man's feet, it seemed to have the desired effect. The expression that greeted him when he looked up was bored indifference rather than murderous intent. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and discretely poured himself a drink.

"Would you like to arrange a private audience with her?"

"Not exactly," Kobayashi-san answered with a wry look. "How many clients does she have presently?"

"None..."

Nobu wasn't entirely certain where this line of questioning was headed but he had a feeling that wherever it was going he wouldn't like it. Kobayashi-san nodded to himself as though this news satisfied him.

"She is not to take on any clients."

Nobu balked. He opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by another glare and two bundles of money laid atop his bar. He stared mutely at the man bills while his brain made quick mental calculations. It was enough to cover two months of lease payments, at least. The question was, why? What about this girl had a man like him so interested?

With a quick glance around the bar to make sure no one was watching, he accepted the money and tucked it into his blazer.

"So we are in agreement then?"

He nodded, too stunned to speak.

"Good. I'm sure I don't need to explain the consequences if you decide to get greedy?"

He discretely let his jacket fall open enough to reveal his gun sitting comfortably in its holster. Nobu reluctantly nodded and swallowed. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

"I understand," he muttered, barely able to get the words out.

Kobayashi-san nodded and slowly buttoned his jacket closed. With a dismissive look at the rest of the club he retreated for the door. The minute he was out of sight, Nobu downed two straight glasses of whiskey, one right after the other. Only when he was finished did he breathe out a heavy sigh of relief.

Kami and hell, that man was one terrifying sonofabitch.

* * *

Author's Notes: Wow guys, just wow! I am totally blown away by the support and love LSR received this past quarter at the FA and IYFG awards. *doles out a big group hug* Honestly, thank you. This chapter is dedicated to **Ai Kisugi, KittyKaiya, LuxKen27, psyco_chick32, ktshabatie, doggieearlover**, for being AWESOME and to everyone else who took the time to read and vote. Thank you guys so much :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry it took so long. My muse decided to skip ahead and has been working on future chapters. Hopefully that means fewer lengthy delays in the future :) For now though, I hope you enjoyed the read and I will have another update for you soon!

- Langus


	28. Infidel

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 28 –

Infidel

Club VOSS was everything she'd expected a host club to be. Kagome appraised the purple textured walls, black accents and various backlit water features with little enthusiasm. The decor was no better, consisting entirely of circular boothed-in tables and lounge areas overflowing with leather and pillows.

Her hand slid off the slightly sticky bar and she discretely wiped it against her skirt.

_You can't be serious..._

But she was, and she had an enthusiastic voicemail from her Boss to prove it.

"Undercover? Great! Good to see you back on the beat Higurashi. Don't you dare disappoint me! It's your ass on the line if you screw this up!"

_Asahi Shimbun's_ Editor had a certain knack for instilling his reporters with crippling self-doubt. Charming man.

This was her first undercover reporting stint in over a year and she'd be lying if she said she was anything but nervous.

She'd pitched it her Editor as an exclusive on the underage sex trade in host clubs, conveniently neglecting to mention that VOSS had any connection to the arson case. A smart reporter never gave away their scoop until the story was sitting on the Editor's desk for review. It'd only taken one stolen scoop for her to figure that out. She'd never make that mistake again, especially now. After a month out of work she had to explore every advantage that could get her back into the Boss's good books.

This hair brained scheme of hers went far beyond simple professional curiosity. She needed to prove to herself that she'd survived and the past month and he hadn't broken her. It was hard to remember sometimes, the person she'd been before December. She needed to find herself again and this was the only way she knew how to do that.

Going undercover, having to be quick on her feet and smooth enough to work information out of people that they weren't willing to share, made her feel alive. If she could do this then there was a chance she could be the old Kagome again and she needed to hold on to that. She'd do whatever it took to get this story, even if it meant posing as a hostess and working in one of the seediest establishments she'd ever stepped foot in.

The club's day manager emerged out of a back room and motioned for her to follow him. He'd introduced himself to her as Watanabe something-or-other but the only name she could remember was "Kappa". The poor bastard bared an uncanny resemblance to the popular character and she'd taken no small amount of pleasure in baptising him with his new nickname.

"Kappa" led her behind a velvet curtain and down a short, whitewashed hallway. It seemed like this was where all the offices were – security, monies and management. She read the brass signs hanging on the doors they passed, taking note of what each room was for future reference.

"The Boss'll see you now."

"Kappa" gestured to a non-descript door at the end of the hall.

Putting on her best girlish smile she bowed low and thanked him profusely until he disappeared into one of the doors they'd passed along the way.

_Show time,_ she thought, re-adjusting her breasts before giving the door a discrete knock.

"Come in," ordered the voice from the other side.

She let herself in with a slew of "sumimasens" and deep bows. The feminist inside of her recoiled in horror but business was business. She wasn't going to get what she wanted being herself. She had to be exactly what _he_ wanted – coy, docile and flirtatious.

Enter "Hitomi".

"Ah, Hitomi-san. Please, have a seat," he greeted her, gesturing to the lone chair in front of his desk. "I'm Nobu Furukawa, the owner of VOSS."

Nobu Furukawa was as seedy looking as the club he owned. He was a thin slip of a man with sallow cheeks and over gelled hair. His gaudy pinstripe suit didn't impress and neither did his crooked smile.

She sat down and crossed her legs, making certain to show as much thigh as possible. He took his time appraising her with his small, dark eyes. They lingered on her thighs and even longer on her chest.

Today she was flaunting her best "classy cleavage", a look she'd perfected during years spent working in a man's world. It was just enough of a show to tempt and taunt without labelling her a slut. It worked wonders at getting her what she wanted.

Noting the slight leer that slid across the man's lips, she felt satisfied she hadn't lost her touch.

"So, I heard you're looking for a job?" He lowered his eyes briefly to her resume and gave it a passing glance.

"We might have something for you, but I've got a few things I need to know first."

"Sure, anything," she purred with an easy smile.

Momentarily setting her application aside, he laced his fingers behind his head and sat back in his chair. It swivelled slowly back and forth as he took his time studying her.

"You legal?"

She nodded, inwardly ecstatic that at 25 she could still pass for a 20 year-old. He pursed his lips and swivelled back and forth a few more times.

"You ever work for any of my competitors? We've got strict policies against that sort of thing. I don't need any of your ex-bosses breathing down my neck."

She shook her head, "This'll be my first job at a club. I worked at Starbucks last year but it doesn't pay the bills. You know how it is."

She punctuated that last comment with a girlish giggle and a light shrug. He smirked, apparently amused by her use of the present tense. What did it matter? This song and dance interview they were having was nothing more than a formality and they both knew it. She'd had the job the moment she walked through his office door.

Pulling his chair in close, he folded his hands atop the desk and leaned forward. He looked serious now, all amusement gone from the lines around his eyes and mouth. She waited expectantly and did her best to look cute.

"Can you flirt?"

Wearing a coy smile she leaned forward, gifting him with a prime cleavage shot, and whispered,

"With the best of 'em."

His eyes lingered on her chest just long enough to make her uncomfortable but so far it was mission accomplished. Discretely clearing his throat, he busied himself rifling through one of the drawers next to his desk and eventually handed her a work contract.

"For the first little while you'll be behind the bar. One of the more experienced girls will train you proper on serving the clients in a couple weeks."

She nodded and handed him back the signed contract.

"Tonight you can start by doing a bit of an orientation session with Rin."

_Jackpot_.

Kagome couldn't hide her smile. She'd be working with the exact person she'd come to this godforsaken place to find? Fate had finally decided to become her sweet mistress.

"That sounds great! I can't wait to get started," she gushed with a girlish clap of excitement for effect.

Furukawa-san laughed and got up from behind his desk. She followed suit and watched him slowly make his way to her side. With a damp hand against her hip and an arm wrapped round her waist he guided her to the door.

"Hitomi-san, I hope you won't mind if I ask one small favour?"

"Of course, anything," she beamed up at him while her insides recoiled at his touch.

She could handle just about anything he was going to throw at her – a kiss, a quick fondle, maybe some touchy feely, but she was starting to have some reservations about exactly how far she wanted to go for this job.

Thankfully, to some small extent, she'd misjudged the sort of lecher that he was.

"Could you do your best to help Rin pick a stage name? It's bad enough she's plain in the face but with a boring name she doesn't have a hope or a prayer of attracting any regulars."

Her instant reaction of "_asshole"_ was followed by the even stranger question of why he'd bothered hiring the girl in the first place if he thought she was plain and boring. The kid must have one hell of a personality.

Putting on a smile she nodded cheerily, "Of course Furukawa-san! _Anything_ for you."

"Good girl," she replied with an appraising nod and sent her on her way with a firm pat on the ass.

_Well, it could've been worse_, she noted with a wry smile and made her way down the hall to the bar.

xXx

Detective Takahashi was pleased to find himself once more trapped within the walls of Interrogation Room 3.

Across from him sat Yoshi Ishii, a long time member of Inagawa-kai. He'd spent the last ten years in and out of prison and was the proud owner of a sizeable rap sheet filled with robberies, assaults and arson charges. He also bared a striking resemblance to the sketch sitting between them on the table.

Yoshi Ishii looked exactly how low level yakuza scum usually did, sallow, tattooed and missing a few teeth. Given the circumstances and the charges, he didn't appear the least bit concerned to be sitting where he was.

Wearing a smug smile, he kept his hands neatly folded on the table in front of him. His expression said 'you've got nothing on me' and it made Takahashi smile.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon, Ishii."

The man shrugged easily, looking mildly amused about something.

"Well, let's cut the shit shall we? Why'd you do it?"

Ishii's smile grew wide, revealing a missing incisor on his right side.

"Don' know what yer talkin' about, Detective."

"I've got an eyewitness and your prints are on what's left of the Molotov cocktail you used to light the place up so let's try that one again."

In actuality, they hadn't been able to lift anything more than charred ash from what was left of the bottle they found in the dumpster. Lucky for him, there were no laws against lying in the Interrogation Room. It was his favourite loophole in the law for situations exactly like this one.

Ishii cast a long look at the sketch and slowly nodded, "Ah. That."

He considered his hands for a long moment, slowly unfolding them to reveal long-healed stubs where the ring and little fingers of his right hand had once been. Visible proof that this wasn't the first time Yoshi Ishii had found himself in hot water. It went a long way to explaining his indifference to it all.

"So what are you offering?"

He asked the question as though they were bartering over furniture at a garage sale instead of jail time.

"Answer a few of my questions and I'll make sure the PPO* cuts you a deal."

Ishii considered the offer a moment before slowly nodding his head.

"Let's just say it was a favour for an old friend."

"A hit for hire? The owners don't have any yakuza connections. I've been through their file."

"Never said it was a hit for hire and never said it had anythin' to do with the owners, neither," he pointed out before reclining back in his chair.

Takahashi paused long enough to take this in. That only left the waitress, but he couldn't figure how she was connected?

"Did the girl owe your friend money?"

Ishii shrugged and scratched at the day-old stubble growing along his cheekbone.

"Dunno, but she had a damn fine ass. If you see her around, tell her I say 'hello' would ya? I think we might've got off to a bad start."

Well, that answered at least _one_ of his questions.

"Why didn't you kill her when you were done? Would've kept you out of here," he said, gesturing to the bare cement walls of the interrogation room.

Ishii shrugged, "Wasn't in the job description."

"S'pose you wanna tell me who this friend of yours is?" Takahashi ventured, half-joking.

"S'pose my generosity's run out," he answered with a firm look.

Well it wasn't everything he wanted, but more than he'd expected. He'd take it for now and see what he could make of it. Leaving Ishii in the hands of central booking, Inuyasha made the slow walk back to his desk.

This case was a lot more involved that it'd seemed at first glance. The yakuza, especially groups like Inagawa-kai, didn't randomly burn down buildings without provocation. There was a vendetta in there somewhere, he just needed to root it out. Next stop was to talk to that waitress again to see if he couldn't get any more out of her.

His desk phone came ringing to life as he approached. He considered not answering it. The sooner he got where he was going the sooner he could grab a bite and be on his way home. But the lingering notion that it could be someone calling with a tip that would help him break a case nagged at the back of his mind, same as always, and he found himself snatching the receiver up off his desk at the last second.

"Takahashi."

"Oh good I caught you! It's Jeff from Forensics."

There was a touch of panic in the kid's tone, enough to grab his attention.

"Yeah, what've you got for me?"

"I need you to come down here."

"Now?" He glanced at his watch and frowned when his stomach growled demanding dinner.

"Yes. Please hurry."

"This had better be worth it," he warned.

"I promise you it is."

With a heavy sigh he dropped the phone onto its cradle and grabbed his keys up off the desk. Jeff had a tendency to be a little over-enthusiastic when it came to evidence. Everything was urgent. Everything was a breaking news front page story. His hopes for this weren't high despite Jeff's reassurances.

"This had better be the fucking breakthrough of the year," he muttered, making his way out the door. There'd be a whole lot of grief in store for a certain American-born lab tech if it wasn't.

xXx

Inuyasha had always disliked visiting the Forensics Lab. Something about the atmosphere bothered him. Maybe it was the sterility, or the fact that the harsh disinfectants used to clean every surface burned the inside of his nose. Whatever it was, it encouraged him to avoid Forensics whenever possible.

On those rare times when he did happen to make his way there, Jeff was a welcome distraction. They'd imported him from America, quirks and all, and so far he was doing an alright job. The kid was thorough and fast – two attributes that even he could appreciate – and he didn't walk around with a giant stick up his ass, which was more than he could say for any of the others.

Today was different though. Today he looked dishevelled and ready to shit himself as he paced back and forth in front of the lab bench.

"So what've you got for me?" he demanded, tossing his coat carelessly across the nearest gleaming workbench.

"Good, you're here!"

Foregoing any of his normal greetings, Jeff jumped onto a nearby computer and began clicking through various login screens. Inuyasha hovered beside him, his curiosity piqued.

The droplets of sweat dotting the kid's brow glistened in the overhead fluorescent lights and his hands were unsteady on the keyboard. Whatever these results were, they had him spooked good.

After a third screwed up attempt at typing in the system password, he interrupted him with a firm hand on his shoulder. The way the kid practically jumped out of his chair made him 'tsk' in annoyance.

"Oi. Take a breath and calm the fuck down."

It took a minute and more than a breath or two, but Jeff eventually calmed down enough that his hands stopped shaking. With a nod he let out one last big breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Alright, now start from the top," Inuyasha ordered, keeping his tone calm.

"I got a new shipment of evidence this week from one of the other divisions, 12th I think."

Inuyasha nodded, motioning for him to go on. He turned his attention back to the computer and continued typing and clicking away, bringing up his various tests and reports.

"Right, so one of the evidence bags has this shell casing inside and it looks gold to me and sure enough there's a bullet to match."

Reaching across the lab bench he retrieved two identical looking baggies and handed them off. Inside were the bullet and a shell casing in question. Inuyasha held them up to the light and eyed the gold tone of the metal suspiciously.

"So I put 'em through ballistics and they're a match to your other cases."

"What?"

Already this was worth the drive. With both eyebrows raised Inuyasha studied the evidence in his hands with cautious optimism. For months he'd been hoping for some kind of lead, anything that could help him find his Perp and all he'd found was a road after road of dead ends. Maybe things were finally turning around?

"I decided to see if I could get any prints off them, ya know, because we couldn't get any off the others..."

Seeing where this was headed, Inuyasha felt his heart begin to race with excitement.

"You get a match?"

"Just a partial but I put it into the system anyway and... well... When I saw the results I didn't know who to call. I thought maybe..."

The suspense was killing him. He hadn't been wound up this tight since December, walking through that stink infested pit down at the docks. If he didn't need the kid to keep talking he would've strangled him for pussyfooting around the only answer he wanted.

"Spit it out already," he growled.

Wearing an uncomfortable frown, Jeff glanced around the empty lab and then pulled up the last of his screens.

"Here, see for yourself."

The screen switched from white to black and Jeff's fingerprint match stared them both in the face. For a moment the lab was dead silent, neither of its occupants daring to breathe. They stared at the screen in muted shock, mutually acknowledging the ramifications that this sort of evidence could have.

"Check it again."

Jeff shook his head and offered him a helpless look. "I did, five times already. I wouldn't have called you down here unless I was absolutely sure."

"Have you told anyone else about this?"

He kept his voice low to hide the slight tremor he knew would be there otherwise. Jeff shook his head and swallowed audibly.

"No! I swear! I saw the results and called you right away. I didn't know what else to do..."

"Delete them."

Jeff shoved his chair back and gawked at him dumbstruck, "What?!"

"You heard me. Delete them."

Inuyasha's tone was razor sharp and he saw the way it made the kid's shoulders shake just a little. Good. It was better for him to be shitting his pants scared than dead.

"But I can't just-"

"You can and you will. Do you have any idea the kind of fire you're messing with here? Unless you wanna be laid out on the coroner's slab by this time next week you'll do what I'm tellin' you. Delete any record of this report you can find and let me handle the rest."

"But-!"

"Look, you called me. You wanted to know what to do and you were hoping I'd take care of it. Well, this is me fucking taking care of it."

Convinced he'd made his point, he snatched his jacket up off the bench and kicked open the door to the lab. Safely in the hall he took his time putting his arms through the sleeves and shrugging it over his shoulders. He felt like he'd just had a ticking time bomb dropped in his lap with no instruction manual on how to disarm it.

"Fuck me..."

The curse slipped quietly past his lips as his head hit the wall. Just when he thought things were looking up, they jumped right into the fucking deep end.

* * *

_Chapter Notes: _

*PPO – [Supreme] Public Prosecutor's Office (the Japanese equivalent of the District Attorney's office in the American legal system)

- Legal age in Japan is 18 but you have to be 20 to drink. Since Kagome's applying to work at a hostess club, the expectation being that she will be drinking with customers, she'd have to be at least 20 to get the job.

_Author's Notes:_Whew! I didn't think I'd get this out in time but some very awesome reviews this week really gave my muse that extra push it needed. Now it's off to Taiwan for a little R & R! I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter. Things are really going to start heating up plot wise from here on out so I hope you're ready for it :)

On a separate note, I want to extend a very BIG thank you to all of my readers. You inspire me to no end and this story would not still be going if it weren't for your amazing support. Last quarter LSR got a lot of love at the FA (winning 1st place for Best Drama!) and the IYFG (winning 3rd place for Best Serial & Best Drama, and 2nd place for Best Action/Adventure!). I was completely blown away!

Though it's small in comparison, I feel like the very least I could do was offer a special thank you to some of you: LuxKen27, psyco_chick32, landofthekwt, ktshabatie, RosieB, Ai Kisugi, KittyKaiya, .Lover, SessInSunglasses, & KinkyHoe. You guys are the best readers a writer could ask for :)

Until next time,

Langus


	29. Break, Mend, Repeat

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 29 –

Break, Mend, Repeat

The driving rain pounded the pavement and showed no signs of letting up. The storm was winter's last kick in the balls. Soon the clouds would break and the country would be awash in sakura blossoms and sunshine. He'd never been one for sakura, but it'd be nice just the same to set aside thoughts of snow, driving rain and bone numbing cold for another year.

Kouga quickened his pace down the waterlogged street and eventually stopped under a large overhang. He took his time shaking the water from his jacket and towelling off. If it were anyone else he wouldn't have come, but the call was so unexpected (and out of character) that he'd found himself accepting before thinking it through.

It was an invitation for drinks, a request both simple and innocuous until you knew the source. And it was the source that'd captured his interest. What did the bastard have up his sleeve this time? Eager to find out, Kouga draped his jacket over his arm and slid open the door to one of Tokyo's many back alley izakaya's.

_Aji-Tasuke_ was a neatly decorated hole in the wall but it did a decent business. The din of chatter and sounds from the kitchen enveloped him the moment he stepped inside, along with the faint haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. He breathed in the scent of grilled meat as he slipped out of his shoes and his stomach rumbled appreciatively. At the very least he'd be eating a good dinner tonight.

The mutt was waiting for him, hunched over a drink at the bar. He turned at the sound of the staff's welcome greeting and waved him over.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna show," he said, getting up out of his seat.

Kouga shrugged and tossed his jacket over the back of the chair.

"I wasn't sure I'd get through the door without you aiming another right hook at my jaw."

That earned him a smirk. Inuyasha waved over one of the waitresses and she escorted them to a booth.

"What're you havin'? It's on me."

"What've you got?" He nodded at the snifter in his former partner's hand.

The mutt considered his drink a moment before taking a slow sip. "A bit of this an' that."

"I'm good with beer."

He watched Inuyasha place their drink order with a careful eye. The last time they'd crossed paths they were rolling around the floor of the 29th precinct trying to beat the living shit out of each other and now they were what? Drinking buddies?

"I was surprised you called," he prodded, hoping to get something out of him.

Takahashi shrugged.

"Was overdue for an apology, I guess. What happened at the Precinct... I was outta line."

Ten years working the beat and this was the first time he'd heard Takahashi apologize – for anything. He laughed out loud and the mutt scowled.

"Somethin' funny?"

"Yeah, that piss poor excuse of yours. You wouldn't condescend to apologize to me if you backed over my mother with your squad car. So either you're a changed man, or you want something. Which is it?"

Takahashi blew out a quiet sigh and finished off what was left of his drink. He set it down heavily at the end of the table before meeting his gaze.

"I wanted to run a case by you, you know, to get some perspective."

He nodded and sampled his beer. It was ice cold and did a decent job of washing away the taste of the rain. Setting it down, he leaned back and waited.

"The Supe's given me this arson case to work on. It never should've wound up in Homicide but that's how it goes, I guess."

The waiter passed by their table and he took a moment to place an order of grilled meat and rice. His stomach hadn't stopped growling since he'd stepped through the door. If he was going to spend the night listening to the mutt bitch and moan, it was going to be on a full belly.

With a fresh drink securely in hand, Takahashi continued, "I'm trying to work out a motive but I just can't wrap my head around it."

"Anyone of interest?" he drawled, feeling bored and a little distracted.

Kagome hadn't called him back - three days and nothing. She'd given him fair warning – "This week is going to be pretty hectic at work so sorry if I'm not around" – but it still didn't sit right. He was worried about her. Was it even healthy to be throwing herself back into work so soon? He supposed it was good in a way since it gave her a much needed distraction, but at what cost?

He glanced at the haggard looking hanyou across the table and tried to rouse enough interest to care about what was coming from his mouth. It was getting harder and harder to care about him at all these days.

Takahashi fished a worn pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and toyed with it in front of him, tapping the box distractedly on the table.

"A witness from the cafe gave us Yoshi Ishii and he copped to the arson pretty quick."

"Yakuza huh?" he commiserated and took another swig of his beer.

"Seems like it, 'cept I can't find the connection. Ishii was acting on orders but the cafe owners are clean."

"Sounds like a vendetta. What about the staff?"

The mutt took his time lighting a cigarette and soon the air around their table was filled with the rich scent of burning Marlboro.

"They had some broad working there," Inuyasha answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "She's the one that pointed us in Ishii's direction. I've been over her background with a fine tooth comb – no priors, no gambling debts, no family connections – she might as well be a ghost."

Kouga shook his head and took his time placing the meat on the grill. This was exactly the kind of case every cop hated to work – no leads, no one's talking, nothing's easy. It was obvious that the girl was the heart and soul the case. Whatever her connection, once they found it they'd have their answer.

"Why do you care anyway? If Ishii copped to it you've got your man. Why go stirring up trouble?"

Takahashi gave him a strange look and grabbed a slice of meat off the grill.

"Can't explain it. You know how it is. Having Ishii behind bars doesn't mean squat if I don't know who's pulling the strings. If someone's after this girl, better to find out now then when it's too late."

Kouga understood exactly where he was coming from. A detective's dogged insistence on finding the truth was one of the best and worst parts about the job. Sometimes a case would follow you for years, keeping you up at night, all because you couldn't wrap your head around the 'why'.

There weren't always answers either, at least not ones that came easy. There were some cases he knew he'd go his whole career without ever solving.

"So who's the girl?" he wondered, more curious now than he wanted to be.

"She gave an alias at the station but I managed to track her down - Rin Aomori. She's working for Goldstar Entertainment these days at some hostess club downtown."

"No kiddin'?" Kouga whistled low and shook his head as he turned the meat on the grill. "Doesn't take much these days, I guess. Which club?"

"Money talks," Takahashi added with a hint of bitterness in his tone. "If my sources are right, she's workin' at VOSS."

VOSS – he'd been there before. It was out of the way, on the other side of town, and nothing worth writing home about. He'd flirted with many a sad, doe-eyed Daddy's girl there, and even taken a few home, but the place had no class and neither did its 'talent'.

"She got any family that could be getting in with the wrong people?"

The mutt took a long sip of his drink and thought it over.

"She's got a grandmother living in Miyagi-ken but the woman's got one foot in the grave and the other's halfway there. Her parents are dead, died in a car wreck about a decade ago. She had a brother too at some point but he got caught up in the student riots in North Korea. The army put a bullet in his head, or so the story goes."

"What about a boyfriend? The young ones are stupid like that. They'll do just about anything if they think they're in love with a guy."

_Ain't that the truth_, he muttered to himself, feeling cynical.

Kagome had been one of those girls – blind in love and naive – and it'd nearly gotten her killed. Just remembering her case file from the Takeda homicide was enough to make his blood boil. The things that guy had done to her... and she'd kept going back for more!

If anything good had come of it, it was that she was safe now. As long as she was with him she didn't have a thing to worry about. He'd take care of her in every way the mutt hadn't and gladly dismember any sonofabitch that tried to lay a hand on her.

A smirk played at his lips as he remembered the hot little number she'd been wearing the last time they went to dinner. It'd been tight and black, just how he liked it, and damn her ass had felt perfect in his hands. He'd been patient, Kami knew it, but he'd never pretended to be a Saint. She couldn't hold him off forever.

Despite his attempt to hide his smirk with a long drink, Takahashi noticed and lifted an eyebrow.

"Daydreamin'?"

Kouga chuckled and shook his head.

"So I was plannin' on visiting this broad tomorrow to see if I can get any more out of her. You in?"

He popped a piece of sizzling beef into his mouth and chewed it over. In the end he figured it was best to keep the girl, the case and the mutt at arm's length. Less trouble for everyone that way.

"What, and steal all your glory?" he joked. "Thanks, but I've got my own cases to worry about."

Takahashi snorted, "Just figured I'd ask."

He watched him down what was left of his drink and press the buzzer to order another. The waiter brought it around quick. Maybe they'd already had it ready and waiting. Made him wonder how often the mutt came around this place.

"I thought you were riding the sobriety wagon these days?" he wagered, eyeing him carefully.

Inuyasha rested his head against his fist and gave him a bleary-eyed look, "Sobriety ain't my thing."

"Neither's responsibility."

"Speaking of which," he interjected, perking up a little, "What the hell were you doing nosing around in my old cases?"

Kouga's expression darkened. Somehow he'd known it would eventually come to this. He hated being in this position but there was fuck all he could do about it now. Leaning forward he lowered his voice and answered, "I was asked to."

"You reek of bull shit, you know that?"

With a quiet snort of frustration he gestured to the line of empty glasses at the end of their table.

"The Admin. Bureau heard about your...problem. They wanna make sure all your cases are in order. You know how these things are. One bad conviction and they all look bad. No sense giving the Defence lawyers any ammo they don't need."

"The fuck? The last thing I need is the goddamn Admin. breathing down my neck. Since when did you start working for them?"

"Since I volunteered. I knew you had a problem and I knew it'd come back to bite you in the ass. I'm just trying to minimize the damage. I've got your back."

"The hell you do," he snarled with an accusing glare.

Kouga shrugged. "Look, think what you want but I'm on your side. You know how they are. They'll make a mountain out of any molehill. I'm just making sure you haven't got so much as an ant hill for them to sniff at."

Takahashi took his time processing that one and finishing off his drink. Shaking his head in disgust, he slammed the empty snifter down on the table and grabbed his jacket.

"You leavin'?"

"The stench of rat is gettin' thick. I need some air."

Kouga shrugged off the barb and relaxed back against the seat cushion. He watched the mutt angrily pull on his jacket and throw down a wad of yen. It was more than enough to cover his share; looked like he was still treating.

He waited until he turned to leave before adding, "Kagome's doing good these days, in case you were wondering."

It was a low blow at best, but he was in the mood for a little payback for the sucker punch and the rat comment. _Ungrateful bastard. _

He watched the mutt's shoulders tense and his fist curl up tight. He hovered between their booth and the door and Kouga could almost hear the internal debate raging inside his head. Hit or walk away. Hit or walk away. The alcohol was helping, telling him to hit. One hit was all he needed.

It was a long moment before the mutt's shoulders relaxed and he jammed his fists into his jacket pockets. Turning his head he muttered a quiet "Fuck you," over his shoulder and then pushed his way out the door.

xXx

Club VOSS wasn't the worst establishment he'd ever been in, but it was damn near the bottom of the list. Inuyasha breathed shallow to avoid the stench of stale smoke and alcohol on the air and sought out his target.

This was going to be a strict in and out meeting. He had a hangover from hell and wasn't keen on beating around the bush. Thankfully she saved him the effort of looking for her. Looking as guilty as Sin, she quickly made her way over to him and pulled him aside.

"How did you find me?" she hissed, keeping her voice low.

"It wasn't hard. Cop, remember?"

She scowled at his self-satisfied smirk and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Well, what do you want?"

He shrugged and leaned casually against the bar. It was better for her if it looked like she was entertaining a guest rather than being interviewed by a cop. If she was smart she'd know enough to play along.

"I came to tell you that we arrested the guy who torched the Cafe. His name was Yoshi Ishii. It ring any bells?"

Following his cue, she leaned back coyly against the bar and fingered her hair.

"No. Should it?"

He eyed the large, finger-sized bruises that ran up the length of her pale arm without comment. Ishii hadn't just been bragging then. A part of him still hoped that his kind was all talk, but they continued to prove him wrong.

"You tell me," he pressed. He picked up a drink menu off the bar and pretended to read it. "The yakuza don't burn down buildings for no reason."

The girl visibly paled. "Yakuza?"

Seeing her discomfort he pressed on, "You know any reason why they might be after you?"

She shook her head and swallowed nervously. "I... I don't know."

"Well, that guy Ishii? Someone hired him so whoever's after you's makin' it personal. Think hard. Do you have any friends who might be in with the wrong people? A boyfriend maybe?"

She hesitated before shaking her head. It wasn't much but it was long enough that it tipped him off. She was hiding something. Maybe she didn't even realize it, but whatever she knew was either going to keep her safe or get her killed.

"Rin. Think."

"I don't know!" she confessed, looking exasperated. "I don't know why they're after me. I don't know any yakuza!"

Her reaction seemed legit. He'd seen many a performance in his time but there was real fear in her eyes. The moment he'd mentioned the yakuza she'd started shaking. If she was involved with them she didn't know it. Either that, or she was the best damn actress he'd ever seen.

"Why are you here interrogating me?" she blurted out, her tone coloured by anger and frustration. "I don't know anything! You should be out there looking for whoever hired that guy to burn down the cafe!"

"I'm trying. Just figured I'd cover all my bases."

She shot him an exasperated look and rolled her eyes. All her flailing had caught her manager's attention and he was watching them like a hawk from his corner of the club. Time was up. Having boyfriends was strictly forbidden – the first rule of any good club. The longer he lingered the more suspicious he seemed.

Smiling at her, he pulled out a business card and set it on the bar.

"If you think of anything, give me a call will ya?"

She sniffed dismissively and didn't make a move to pick it up.

"I'm only tryin' to keep you out of a body bag."

With a begrudging look she picked up the card and tucked it into her bra. He lingered at the bar and took his time setting the drink menu back in its holder.

"You know," he added with a long look at her arms, "it's not too late to tack on an assault charge."

She hastily pulled down the sleeves of her sweater and looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she muttered.

"Well, if you change your mind you've got my number."

She nodded hesitantly and cast a nervous glance at her manager. It was clear he'd overstayed his welcome. Offering her a quick tip of his hat, he sauntered out the door.

She hadn't given him much but at least it was something. If there was a yakuza connection she didn't know a thing about it. It was like trying to play connect-the-dots with most of the dots missing. Damn near impossible unless you already knew what the picture looked like when finished.

He had his work cut out for him but hell, this kind of thing was what he lived for.

xXx

Back inside the club Rin returned to her station behind the bar and snatched a glass from the drying rack. She took to it like a dog to a bone, showing it no mercy whatsoever. Kagome waited as long as she dared before emerging from the back room and sidling up beside her.

"Who was that?" she inquired, taking up a glass of her own from the drying rack.

"Just some cop being nosy."

A hot rush of panic spread throughout her body. Struggling to keep her expression neutral, she uttered a soft grunt of commiseration.

The second he'd walked through the door she'd hid. Her brain hadn't even had time to process that it was really him before she felt the wall at her back and her heart in her throat.

It'd been months since she'd last seen him. She'd watched his back walk right out of her hospital room and out of her life. Every day since had been a struggle, something else she had to endure. It was a never-ending gauntlet of wondering and coping and convincing herself she was over him.

And it'd only taken seconds for him to undo every shred of progress she thought she'd made. So much for that.

What the hell was he doing snooping around the club anyway? And why now? Why couldn't he have come to her weeks ago when it mattered?

Even as messed up as she was, she couldn't turn off her reporter's instinct. It demanded to know what the connection was between Inuyasha and Rin. Was he using her to get information? Had he tracked her down to VOSS? Were they lovers?

"Did he...ask about me?" she wondered hesitantly.

Rin glanced up, surprised, and gave her a strange look. "You? Why'd he be asking about you?"

She was quick to wave off her new friend's concern with an easy smile. "Just curious. You never know, right?"

Inwardly, she wasn't sure how to feel. A part of her wanted him to find her just as badly as the rest of her was terrified of the prospect. She hadn't stopped loving him. Even now, she couldn't stop which only made the realization that he'd moved on cut deeper.

Rin laughed at her comment, though it wasn't a happy sound.

"Yeah, you never know."

What tied them together? Was it the club? One of his cases? She nibbled at her bottom lip and thought it over. There had to be a way to get the information from Rin without giving herself away. She just needed to word her questions the right way. The number two rule of journalism – "It's not what you ask, it's how you ask it."

She noticed Furukawa-san ogling them out of the corner of her eye and it made her skin crawl. He took his time sidling up to the bar. He was looking especially cheap in an unfashionable pin-stripe suit. His shoes were all wrong, too. That look had been in style ten years ago. It said a lot about him.

With a leer he complimented them both on their hard work before pulling Rin aside. Kagome's hand stilled and she strained to hear their conversation.

"You've got a private guest booked for tomorrow," Furukawa-san said, sounding very business-like. It was unusual for him. He didn't like to come across as too serious. Everything was fun and flirtation when he was around. Not today though. Today he was as serious as she'd ever seen him.

"I don't need to remind you that this club runs on the yen of its regulars so you better not screw it up."

She noticed Rin's dutiful nod at his thinly veiled threat and made a quiet sound of disgust. The man was a pig. It made her sick to think of how many girls like Rin he'd taken advantage of. He loved them naive and nearly innocent. He said those girls were the best talents. What he meant was they were the most easily manipulated.

She strained to hear the rest of their conversation but it was muffled by the god awful electronica that was pumping out of the stage speakers. Eventually Rin returned wearing the biggest smile she'd seen on her all week.

"What are you so happy about?" she sniffed, trying not to sound too interested.

Rin took up two cocktail glasses and placed them on the shelf behind the bar. The coloured back lights shone through them creating a rainbow of red and purple glass.

"I've got my first private customer tomorrow night," she answered with a grin.

Singing to herself, Rin sashayed off in the direction of the dressing room. Kagome waited until she was out of sight before rolling her eyes and letting her shoulders drop in defeat.

Oh Lord, but they were in trouble now.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Long break, I know, I'm sorry :( I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

While I was away LSR won 1st Place at the IYFG Awards for "Best Action/Adventure". I still can't believe it. Thank you so much to all of my loyal readers and nominators :)

I need to extend a special round of thank yous to Frieda, Devil Dog 2027, LuxKen27, Ai Kisugi, doggieearlover, landofthekwt, Kinky-Hoe, Em Wolf, -artanimelover-, SessInSunglasses and .Lover. Your nominations and kind-hearted reviews have been incredible. Thank you so very much :)

Happy reading!


	30. Liar, Liar

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 30 –

Liar, Liar

It was somewhere between dinner and dessert when it hit.

They were waiting for ice cream – mango for him, coconut for her – and she was finishing off her second glass of wine. It was just the faintest tremor. She wasn't sure she'd even felt it at first, until it grew stronger. The cutlery rattled atop the plates on nearby tables and the pinot noir in her glass sloshed dangerously close to the rim.

She suddenly found herself stuck inside the elevator at the Asahi Shimbun building, breathing in the stale air with her heart in her throat. The fear of death had been overwhelming in those long hours – each time the elevator rocked or groaned she'd pictured their broken, mangled bodies laying at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Desperate for a distraction, she'd talked to him, demanding to know about Kikyou. There was an unsettling gruffness in his voice when he talked about her, and she still wondered about the memories that lay at the root of it.

She hadn't appreciated then what it must have taken for him to tell her that story. Why had he told her at all? Maybe he'd thought they were going to die too. Maybe he'd just wanted to get it off his chest; lighten his load before meeting his end, so to speak, and she was the most available receptacle.

The earthquake was minor and only lasted half a minute, but the effects lingered long after the final trembles. She was hopelessly distracted, caught up in the past when she should've been focusing on the future. Kouga was regaling her with a re-telling of his brief employ as a personal body guard for Takeshi Kaneshiro. She wanted to listen, but her mind was too busy masochistically wrapping itself around memories of how things used to be to pay him much attention.

It wasn't _anyone's_ fault, and that was the hardest thing to accept about the whole sordid mess. It wasn't Inuyasha's fault for needing distance after finding out that his previous lover had been murdered in her place, in a case of mistaken identity no less. It wasn't cruel or dickish – it was human. Now that she'd had a couple months to mull it over that seemed obvious. She really couldn't say she would have acted any different herself.

Perhaps, in some way, she hadn't. She'd neglected to tell him about Oniguomo, an oversight that'd nearly cost both of them their lives. She'd been afraid to be honest with him, afraid of how he would react, and look where it'd gotten them. Here she was facing the exact scenario she'd been trying to avoid from the start. Naraku was probably pissing himself with laughter in whatever corner of Hell he'd slithered into.

It wasn't Kouga's fault either. That thought, and the guilt that came with it, pained her the most. Kouga was the nice guy, the one who'd swept in after Inuyasha left to pick up the pieces. He was good to her and he seemed to care about her, but whatever he felt for her wasn't mutual.

She'd tried to forget, tried to get past it and focus on the future, but was finding it impossible. This second date and the ill-advised, purely selfish decision on her part to accept it were evidence of that. She'd known after the first one that there was no spark, nothing drawing her to him, but that hadn't stopped her from saying "Yes".

Her conscience went into overdrive formulating every excuse in the book for why she'd done it: she'd just had an off night during their first date; it'd been too soon after her attack and the post traumatic stress clouded her judgment; she was lonely.

The truth was some mix of the three with a heaping dose of "selfish" and it left her feeling like shit. Especially now that she couldn't concentrate on a single goddamn word he was saying. All she could think about was that stupid elevator, the solidness of Inuyasha's body beneath hers and the softness of his jersey tee entwined in her fingers.

She endured the rest of dinner by smiling outwardly at Kouga's stories and making platitudes about how delicious the food was. When they were finished he offered to walk her home. She accepted, hoping the walk would clear her head from the wine and give her time to think.

On the way, he told her some grand story about saving an infant from the back of a stolen car. The cynic in her was amused that he was using a baby rescue story to try and get some ass; the rest of her was too busy trying to figure out how to extricate herself from this problem of her own creation.

They reached the door to her apartment complex sooner than planned and he pushed on ahead without asking permission. His fingers entwined with hers and gently pulled her up the stairs.

She knew what was coming next. It was written all over his face – the quiet hunger, the anticipation – and she came up empty handed in her search for a way to slow things down.

They'd barely reached her door when he backed her into the wall. There wasn't anything subtle or hesitant about his kiss. What started off as an innocent peck evolved with a bold touch and a quiet moan into something more carnal.

She was only dimly aware of the wall at her back and the numb, unsteady feeling in her legs, but such small doses of reality were inconsequential. What her mind and body were focused on was the hungry pressure of his lips against hers and the scorching trail his hands left on her body.

For a moment, just a moment, she lost herself to the rush. It was impossible not to, especially when he uttered her name in that soft, pleading tone underwritten with desire. His hand found the curve of her knee and hiked her leg around his waist.

She could feel his desire pressed against her and taste the want in his kiss. Even her body betrayed her, gasping with ecstasy and pulling him closer when he discovered that one sweet spot on her neck.

She'd wanted this to work. She'd wanted it to feel right with him so badly it hurt. If she were any other woman, his quiet moans of pleasure would have turned her willpower into dust. If she were any other woman, they'd already be in her bedroom, half naked and well on their way to bliss.

But she wasn't any other woman and as much as she hated to admit it, his kisses just couldn't reach her the way _his_ had.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this," he whispered, his voice muffled against her neck, and she groaned inwardly.

Her hands fell away and ever so slightly she pulled back. Things had gone far enough. It was obvious to her now that they had to stop before he got hurt more than he already would be.

"Kouga…" she whispered, her tone pleading. "Please, I can't."

Her stomach was already in knots, expecting the sort of violent outburst she was used to. Instead, he blew out a quiet sigh of resignation and slowly lowered her to the floor.

"I shouldn't have rushed you like this. If you need more time…"

He looked up and something in her expression gave her away. His features sobered instantly and he slowly nodded with understanding as he took a much needed step back.

"More time won't make a difference," he answered for her.

At a loss for words, she merely shook her head.

Laughing dryly, he swiped his hand through his dark hair and gave her a pained smile.

"I get it. You don't have to explain. I just wish you'd said something sooner."

"I'm sorry…"

"So am I," he said, sounding like he truly meant it.

She wanted to say something consoling but somehow "It's not you, it's me" felt wrong in every way. He saved her the trouble and backed out with a brief "good night". The heavy metal door leading to the stairwell slammed shut behind him and she found herself alone, with only the wall at her back to keep her standing upright.

Her meek self-reassurances that letting him go was a necessity didn't stop her knees from going weak. The realization that she was suddenly alone in the world was far more terrifying than it was liberating.

The thought of entering her empty, silent apartment kept her rooted to the floor. Stamping down the panic that threatened to well up inside her, she determined that she needed air and closure, both of which were waiting for her just beyond the door of her building.

Sucking in a breath for courage, she pushed off the wall and headed for the stairs.

xXx

Her hands were trembling. She kept them busy drying glasses and watched the clock.

_Five minutes._

Blowing out a shaky sigh, Rin slipped the glass in her hand onto the holding rack and picked up another.

"You can do this," she whispered encouragingly under her breath and tried like hell to believe it.

Nothing had felt right since the attack. It was like she'd become an impartial observer of her own life, watching her body go through the motions, robotically falling into the routine of work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, without feeling any attachments at all. Any emotion worth experiencing had evaporated in the fire, leaving nothing in its place to keep her whole.

She needed something to help her remember who she used to be, to show her how to _feel_ again, and this ridiculous plan seemed as good as any. It was kind of like throwing yourself into the deep end of the pool to see how fast you can learn how to swim. With any luck, she'd be able to keep her head above water. If not, well ...

The clock struck 10 and she set down the glass in her hand. Furukawa-san's beady black eyes were watching her like a hawk from across the club. She'd lost track of the number of times he'd told her how important this client was, and how good his patronage was for the club. If she didn't make him happy she'd be out of a job – it was as simple as that.

After swallowing away the sudden tight feeling in her throat, she adjusted her skirt, touched up her lipstick in the mirror behind the bar, and crossed the club to the VIP booths.

_Now, or never, _she thought grimly.

Plastering a smile on her face, she pushed aside the curtain to the VIP room and cheerfully welcomed her client. That was where the niceties ended. Her feet stumbled to a halt and the flirtations she'd prepared stuck in her throat. This was not the time for mindless pleasantries and he was absolutely the wrong person to practice them on.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, finding herself unable to look away. He was magnetic, pulling her in without any effort at all.

He lifted the canter of whisky at his side and poured himself a drink. Silent, he set it down and picked up his glass. Every move he made was methodical, never hurried or thoughtless.

He used to be like that at the coffee shop too, and she'd watch him for hours. Sometimes she'd make an excuse to go talk to him, ask if he needed a refill or wanted a snack, but it always left her feeling guilty afterward. There was something wrong about disturbing him when he was like that – away from the world and happily ensconced with a well worn book. It was like destroying a priceless work of art to assuage your curiosity – it simply wasn't done.

And what about this situation they found themselves in now? What rules apply when two souls who know each other from a past life collide in this one?

The shock of seeing him sitting inside the VIP booth was slowly fading, only to be replaced by a cutting sense of shame. The opinion of a stranger had never mattered to her before, but for whatever inexplicable reason _his _opinion mattered. The fact that he was seeing her like this made her stomach churn.

No one was ever supposed to know. Working at the club was easy when she could play the anonymity card and go home protected by the belief that no one from her past life knew. Here, she could be anyone she wanted to be (even if it was only for a few hours). But not with him. With him she was once again the scared, abused creature that'd crawled out of that fire at the Vica Cafe and it didn't sit well.

The way he looked at her sent intimidation shivering down her spine. His gaze was cold and speculative; the safety and security of the coffee shop were gone. The sense of innocence that'd once surrounded their interactions had disappeared without a trace. There was nothing romantic about this.

"I thought that much was obvious," he answered her, taking a slow sip of his drink.

His arm rested over the edge of the pleather sofa, the snifter of whisky dangling loosely from his fingers. He looked relaxed and carefree, but it was a feint. She'd seen him at his leisure and this was nowhere close.

Her feet decided it was time to move and she took a hesitant step forward. With a glance and a lift of his finger he motioned for her to join him on the sofa. She obeyed, feeling the oppressive weight of his presence increase with every step.

'It was never like this at the coffee shop,' she thought. No, that wasn't quite right. There'd been that one time, when they'd discussed their mutual love of Shakespearean literature amidst the smell of freshly baked biscotti. She'd felt it then. Something had passed between them and just as quickly it was gone.

She hadn't seen him again after that, and then the fire happened... There hadn't been time to figure out what it was or how to react to it, but it was here now, all around her, suffocating her slowly.

She swallowed, tasting fear on her tongue, and lowered herself onto the seat next to him. It didn't make sense why she was afraid of him. He'd given her no cause to be. He was aloof, yes, and quiet too, but this feeling was different, this was oppressive almost to the point of punishing. If she didn't know better she'd think he was angry with her.

"So I guess you heard about the coffee shop," she hazarded.

He nodded, ever so slightly, and looked disinterested as he took another taste of his expensive imported whisky. They didn't specialize in expensive spirits at VOSS, which left her wondering just how much he'd paid the manager to have it brought in.

"They caught the guy."

Her tone implied "so everything's fine" but the way his eyes narrowed at her words told her he wasn't buying it. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, hoping for a distraction. It wasn't like her to fidget but he made her feel strange. Being around him made her want to do things she didn't normally do.

His gaze shifted to her arms and lingered on the fading bruises that stained her skin shades of yellow and green.

"Is that so?"

The memory came on so suddenly it momentarily stole her voice away. The acrid stench of smoke filled her nose and above the roar of the flames she could hear his breaths, hoarse and rough in her ear. He'd chuckled triumphantly while her world had burned around her, grinning at the inferno like the Devil himself. She'd never forget that face, or the sound of that laugh.

Clearing her throat gently, she tugged at her sleeves until they hid the marks and found her voice, "Yeah... The cops said he was yakuza but they don't know why..."

His mouth twisted into a frown, just a small turn of one corner of his mouth. He stared into the bottom of his whisky glass without a word and eventually swallowed down what was left.

"So, do you come to places like this a lot?"

It was an honest question. What kind of man was he behind the expensive suits and aloof exterior? She knew who he was at the coffee shop - a quiet intellectual who liked his java black with no frills. Here though...here he was someone else, someone different. This was the world he belonged to and in this place there was a power behind his presence that she didn't understand. It had her manager doing back flips to keep him happy and that, in and of itself, spoke volumes.

His expression soured at her question, and he answered with a curt, "No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Why are you?" he retorted, setting his empty glass on the floor.

Her brain took its sweet time formulating an answer. What could she say to that? What business was it of his anyway? Suddenly annoyed by the quiet judgement she thought she detected in his gaze, she squared her shoulders.

"I thought that much was obvious," she answered, throwing his own words back at him.

He lifted an eyebrow at her defiance and she felt her stomach twist into knots.

His expression settled back into one of cool impassivity and he motioned for her to come closer. She obeyed, against her better judgment, and he pulled her down until she was straddling his lap.

"I don't even know your name," she whispered more to herself than to him.

Funny how it was easy to forget simple, important details like that around him. They'd never seemed important before, but now that the idea was in her head it wasn't easily dismissed. All this for a guy she didn't even know by name. It was almost laughable.

He seemed to agree. He responded to her observation with an amused smirk and began unbuttoning her shirt. His nimble fingers moved with deliberate slowness, twisting the buttons open one after the other. His piercing gaze never left hers and she didn't have the courage to look away. He saw every changing emotion, every flicker of fear.

Her heart was hammering in her chest so loud she could practically hear it. This wasn't what she'd expected tonight, or maybe it was, but not from him. There were times when she'd thought about what it would be like to be in this position with him, fantasized about how it might be, and this didn't even come close.

The cool touch of his hand atop her thigh, the annoying drum of the house music, and the nausea churning her stomach kept her solidly in the present and reminded her with sobering clarity what customers in his position expected from their hostesses.

When he reached her bra the breath caught in her throat. His fingers lingered, brushing a feather light touch across the tops of her breasts. His lips followed, leaving a burning trail up the column of her throat.

"Wait..." she pleaded, feeling her head start to spin.

She couldn't catch her breath as his persistent fingers continued their work, twisting button after button until her shirt lay open. She resisted the sudden urge to cover herself and looked away while he took his time appraising her with those cold amber eyes.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her voice trembled slightly when she spoke and it caught his attention. He looked up at her then, his eyes met hers, and his expression hardened.

"Different venue, different expectations."

His hands found purchase on her waist, pulling her closer until his lips met her clavicle. He nibbled at her skin, following the slender length of the bone to where it met her neck, and then slowly up from there.

She could smell the whisky on his lips before they met hers and the breath caught in her throat. In her fantasy his touch had been soft and certain but here it was bold and uncompromising. She couldn't even enjoy its roughness because the moment his hand wrapped round her wrist more memories came flooding back.

Even now, she could smell him, the musky scent of his sweat and the pungent stench of stale coffee on his breath. His upper lip had been coarse with stubble and she remembered the way it'd felt scraping across the skin of her cheek.

"Stop..." she whispered fervently against his lips, but he wasn't interested in listening. His fingers pushed their way up her thigh, pushing her skirt with them.

His touch was gentler than the other's had been – the man who'd burned down the coffee shop. He hadn't taken his time. Everything had been rushed, like he was scared that someone else would interrupt them at any moment.

She could remember thinking that maybe _he _would return to the cafe and stop him. She'd never wished for something so hard in all her life. For whatever illogical reason, when she was at her most vulnerable he was the one she'd trusted to protect her. This man, this stranger, doing as he pleased with her body because he'd paid for her services, was who she'd hoped would save her that night.

She started to laugh at the irony of it all, but her silent chuckles quickly turned to sobs. He pulled back suddenly and she saw that one of her tears had fallen against his cheek. She hadn't felt them fall, but they were long overdue.

"You didn't come," she managed to whisper.

His hand dropped away from her wrist and she covered her face with her hands. He didn't need to see her like this, so completely messed up and broken. She'd been doing such a good job of hiding it. No one knew but him, and now that the flood gates had been forced open she wasn't sure they'd ever close again.

She couldn't bear to look at him if it meant seeing the displeasure that was surely written all over his face.

"You don't belong here," he said after a while.

She sniffled and wiped away the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. She wanted to argue but no longer possessed the strength. It'd been sucked right out of her, along with her tears.

She didn't feel him move her, but suddenly she was alone on the couch and he was standing in the middle of the booth with a good foot of space between them. He looked pristine, completely neat and put together.

"The others won't be so understanding," he added with a pointed look at the booth next to theirs.

The walls weren't soundproof. The moans and suggestive noises from the other side only further hammered his point home. If it'd been anyone but him, would they have stopped? She swallowed hard, thinking of how differently things might have turned out.

She'd been wrong before. He had come for her; he was just a little late was all.

He took his time pouring himself another drink and swallowing it down while she did up the buttons of her shirt. He didn't look at her once, keeping his eyes trained on the tacky art that'd been hung on the wall instead.

When she was dressed, he set his empty snifter down on the table and shrugged easily into his jacket. She waited, uncertain what to expect from him next. He briefly looked her over, his expression unreadable.

"Stay if you like. I have a car waiting."

The curtains swung with his departure and she watched him leave the club through the small crack between them.

She didn't know what to think anymore. She felt violated and numb, but a part of her wanted to cry with relief. This stranger, this dangerous creature she didn't know from Adam was offering her a way out. The question was should she take it?

For all she knew, he was a serial killer, or a pervert. Or maybe he was just some guy. Anything was possible, though she found it hard to believe anyone could use the phrase "just some guy" to describe him.

It could have been minutes or hours before her body rose up off the couch and exited the VIP booth. Without really thinking about it, she grabbed her jacket and purse from behind the bar. No one said a word, but she could feel their eyes on her as she exited the club. Whatever happened after tonight, she'd never be allowed back at VOSS and that was fine. There wasn't a single part of her that felt broken up over it.

A car was waiting in front of the club, just like he'd said. He was inside, and didn't look the least bit surprised when she opened the door and slid onto the seat next to him. She couldn't face him just yet, but that didn't seem to matter. The moment the door closed behind her, he relaxed back against the leather seat and instructed the driver to take them home.

* * *

Author's Note: Where to begin? Maybe with an apology.

I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to come out. Life is more than a little busy here - I've been touring around Japan, climbing mountains (Fuji Climb 2010!) and working 5 jobs. No, that's not a typo. I really have 5 jobs. Anyway, it's been difficult to find time to write but I think I've finally figured out a schedule that'll work so please bear with me :)

In the meantime, I want to extend a special thank you to my loyal supporters. Your reviews and messages have been incredible to read. They really do give me a boost when I need it most. Hopefully it won't be long before you hear from me again.

All the best,

Langus


	31. Home

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

Chapter 31

- Home -

She walked slowly into his apartment, acutely aware of the lock on his door sliding into place behind her. Her socked feet were silent atop the glossy hardwood floor, quiet like a thief in the night.

The hall led into an immaculate kitchen that looked liked it'd been snatched off the pages of an interior design magazine. In the centre stood an island and just beyond that, a matching breakfast bar complete with leather stools.

Rin smiled to herself as her fingertips brushed across the cool marble countertop. Conscious of his presence behind her, she made her way to the sitting room.

To one side was a small reading area furnished with a single high-backed leather chair, an ottoman, and an antique bookcase filled with a selection of well read works. She was tempted to go browse the titles, but decided it could wait. On the other side, surrounded by large floor to ceiling windows, was an area for entertaining company. The furniture was elegant and simple, style meeting function.

This apartment suited him – from the opulent marble countertops and stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, to the symmetrical sitting area and small tucked away reading corner in the sitting room. There was no wasted space. Even the walls had their own bit of decoration – strategically placed black and white photographs, framed in black, kept them from looking bare.

She looked around slowly and took her time taking it all in. Everything had a place and a purpose. Every piece fit together, seamless and natural. It made her wonder all the more where she fit and how she'd become worked into this equation.

He'd followed her into the sitting room, but lingered near the door while she took her time exploring. She walked over to another bookshelf that stood tall and proud against the wall and studied the single picture that'd been placed on it amongst the books.

The man she recognized all too well. He looked younger in the photo, but only by a few years or so. His hair was the same stunning silver and his impeccable taste in clothes hadn't changed. She smirked, noting that neither had his serious expression. He looked just as stern as he had most nights he'd walked into her coffee shop.

Her gaze rested longer on the woman standing next to him. She scrutinized her elegant clothes, the perfect placement of every hair on her head, her thin smile on dark red lips. She was stunning. It made sense. But of course he would be married, she realized with a sense of defeat.

"Is this your wife?" she asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

"It is."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, curious about the lack of emotion in his tone. He was on his way to a small table that'd been set out with crystal glasses and bottles of various alcohols.

"Where is she?"

He took his time pouring them both a drink before answering, "Okinawa."

She studied him as he walked toward her to deliver a glass. She couldn't find any trace of emotion on his features - no affection, remorse, or distaste. When it came to his wife, the only thing he emoted at all was complete indifference.

She hmmm-ed and took a slow sip of whatever he'd given her. It tasted like whiskey and burned going down. Suppressing a cough she prodded, "Alone?"

There was a hint of a smirk on his lips when he answered, "Doubtful."

Deciding it was probably best to stop prying into his personal life, she abruptly changed topics.

"Your apartment is incredible."

The view alone was worth a hundred million yen. She gazed out at the city lights, awed and impressed by how beautiful and hypnotic they looked from 30 floors up.

He nodded before setting down his empty glass.

"Come."

She set down her glass next to his and followed him up the floating staircase to a large loft on the second floor. The room was roughly the size of her entire apartment. Just like the downstairs, it was decorated in pristine monochromatic with hints of red here and there. The furniture was sleek and modern and the neatly arranged throw rugs felt soft beneath her feet.

She stood at the top of the stairs dumbfounded, having just come to the realization that he was showing her what was intended to be _her _room.

It didn't make any sense. Why was he doing this? What interest could a man like him possibly have in someone like her?

If she gave in to logic and pragmatism, the answer seemed obvious. In the club his intentions had been more than clear. Her skin still burned with the touch of his lips and she could feel the lingering grip of his hands on her thighs.

If he wanted a whore, why bother going through all the trouble of giving her a place to stay? Did it feel less perverse to him if he did it this way? He didn't seem like the sort to care about that sort of thing.

Knowing that, she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than sex. Something was happening between them, and had been since the first night he'd stepped foot into her coffee shop. She couldn't explain it, or put it into any sort of suitable category; they weren't exactly friends, and they weren't lovers, but there was no denying the connection between them. It was something far stronger and less tangible than either of those titles.

"Why am I here?" she blurted out suddenly. He didn't seem surprised by the question. Rather than answer, however, he diverted his attention to the stairs.

"Let me know if you need anything," was all he said before he retreated down them and back into the sitting room.

She stared after him, not quite sure what to think.

Maybe he couldn't define it either.

xXx

Inuyasha slipped into his dark apartment and pushed the door shut behind him. The stillness that greeted him was a refreshing break from the constant buzz of activity at the precinct, but it only took a few moments for the silence to feel suffocating.

That was the way it was every time he came home these days. The silence and the dark were his daily, unwelcome reminders that he was alone and had no one to blame for it but himself.

Letting out a slow sigh, he collapsed back against the door and slid to the floor. Today had been exhausting. The kind of exhausting where you can hardly put one foot in front of the other on your way home; where your bones ache, your joints throb and your body tells you in no uncertain terms that it's had enough of your nonsense.

He felt completely and utterly drained. Tonight was his night of weakness – the night of the new moon. With so many other things on his mind he'd completely forgotten about it until it was almost too late. He banged his head against the door in frustration and thumbed a lock of his newly darkened hair.

_Shit. _

Tonight couldn't get any worse if it tried. Uttering a quiet groan, he rested his head against his knees and closed his eyes.

"Took you long enough."

It'd been so long since he'd heard her voice it took a moment for the initial shock to wear off. Annoyed at the dullness of his human senses, he slowly got to his feet and stared into his darkened living room.

"How'd you get in here? Bribe my landlord or something?" he demanded, taking a cautious step forward.

She didn't respond but he could picture her wearing an expression that was two parts confidence and one part smug smile.

"You know, for being a cop you have pretty shitty locks. A little slip of the credit card and a jiggle of the handle was all it took. It's a good thing you don't have anything worth stealing in here."

The disdain in her tone was palpable.

"Thanks," he muttered with a glance at the door.

He should've replaced the locks after Kouga shouldered it in all those months ago. He'd meant to, just hadn't gotten around to it yet. He was regretting that bout of laziness now.

Scratching at the stubble along his jaw he asked, "So, why are you here?"

"You really have to ask?"

Staring him in the face was the exact moment he'd been agonizing over since January and he couldn't think of a goddamn thing to say to her. He could apologize, sure, try to explain himself even, but what difference would it make? None of that would change the fact that he wasn't good for her and never would be.

_It's better this way, _he reminded himself, finding it hard to believe a word of it. Out of sight, his hand gripped the back of the chair to keep him steady.

"We can't keep playing this game, Takahashi. I can't have you showing up at my work, snooping around in my private life..."

She paused to let out a deep sigh and got to her feet. He watched her shadowy figure pace slowly across his living room floor and tried to make sense of her words. Showing up at her work? Snooping into her private life? What the hell was she on about?

"Have you completely lost it? I know you've got your issues, but this is somethin' else."

She stopped and turned on him with a glare that would've frozen a lesser man in his tracks. He'd never responded well to intimidation and didn't have any plans to start now.

"I ain't stalkin' you at work," he pressed, "and I sure as hell ain't pokin' around in your 'private life'."

"I don't know why I thought you'd be straight with me," she muttered. "I _saw_ you there, talking to my co-workers, spying..."

"What in the hell, Kagome! I haven't been to the Shimbun building since..."

His voice trailed off as his mind connected the dots, creating a picture that made this whole tantrum of hers finally make sense. With a lift of his brow, he crossed his arms and sat back against the counter.

"So how long've you been whoring yourself out at VOSS?"

"Go to hell!"

The vehemence behind her words answered his question loud and clear. Bolstered by that minor victory, he pushed off the counter and slowly made his way into the living room.

"Yeah, I was at the club. Was letting one of the girls know about a case she helped us with. Didn't even know you worked there till now. Wish I didn't."

"You don't get to judge me," she snapped, gathering her things in a huff. "I don't belong to you."

He felt her words like individual bullet holes in his chest, each one digging a little deeper and causing a little more pain than the last.

"Yeah, I got that memo, thanks."

Maybe it was his tone, he couldn't be sure, but the fire licking at her heels sputtered and died out. She hesitated between him and the door before slumping against the far wall.

"Why?" she asked, all the fight gone from her words. "That day at the hospital... Why didn't you come back?"

Well there it was. The one question he had no easy answer to. She deserved one though. She deserved a lot of things he couldn't give her.

Biding his time, he tossed his hat onto the folding table in the kitchen and slowly combed his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quietly. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"'Sorry' isn't an answer."

_Predictable_. She made it impossible to meet her expectations on a good day.

"I know that," he shot back, frustrated. She was noticeably silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Look, I know I screwed up alright? I should've come to visit but…"

"What?" she prodded.

"I couldn't. Not without figuring some things out first."

"Because of Kikyou?" Her response was quick, almost too quick, and he could hear the fear behind her words.'

"No! …Yes! I don't know. It was more than that."

He was pacing now, trying to collect his thoughts together. Eventually he stopped next to the counter and braced his hands against it.

"You lied to me."

"I didn't-!"

He turned on her with a hard look. "You're a smart woman, Kagome. It never occurred to you that I should know about him?"

"I… couldn't. I knew once you found out nothing would be the same after. And I was right."

He hated the self-righteousness in her words. Like she assumed he wouldn't have taken the time to listen. As though he were so narrow-minded that he would've just pushed her away regardless of the circumstances. Didn't she know him at all?

But she was right about one thing – everything _was_ different now.

The room fell quiet, but the unspoken words were deafening. They were louder than the traffic on the street below or the drunken shouts of the neighbours down the hall. For every word that had been said there were a hundred more that needed to be and no time left to say them.

She made an impatient sound and pulled away from the wall.

"I can't keep doing this," she said sounding resigned.

"I can't keep feeling responsible for what happened to Kikyou, knowing that I should've died in her place. I can't sit at home and stare at my phone wondering why you haven't called. And I can't keep letting myself be jerked around by guys who'd let me go so easily."

"You think this has been easy?"

He moved closer, studying her in the dim glimmer of street light that made its way in through the window. She had no idea what it'd been like for him and perhaps it was better that way. Maybe it'd be easier if she hated him. Maybe convincing her that he didn't care was the only way he could give her the freedom she deserved.

Her expression was filled with confusion and doubt. The purse strap slipped from her shoulder and he resisted the urge adjust it. His eyes skimmed over the curve of her collarbone and the inviting softness of her shoulder. In an ideal world he'd reach out and touch her, stop her from leaving, but the world he lived in was far from ideal.

It was a long moment before she reached up and caught a lock of his hair between her fingers. He followed her gaze and felt his stomach drop.

_Shit._

"What happened to you?"

Her gaze was penetrating as her dark eyes searched his familiar, yet altered, features. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice calm. All of the sudden it felt like he was preparing to defuse a bomb.

"I was gonna tell you…"

"Tell me what? That you're human?" she asked, incredulous.

"Not exactly."

He motioned to the couch and invited her to sit. She complied, unable to take her eyes off of him. Sucking in a breath to steel his resolve, he lowered himself next to her. He'd never had to do this before and hadn't a clue where, or even how, to begin.

"What I'm about to tell you, you can't repeat to anyone."

She nodded slowly and he gave her a severe look. "I mean it Kagome. No one!"

"Okay! I get it!"

Satisfied, he turned away to snake his hands through his hair. Staring hard at the floor, he decided to start with the basics.

"All hanyou have a time when their demonic powers fade and they become more human. I don't know why it happens; it's just one of those things."

"So when your powers fade, you become like this?" she asked, shifting closer.

"Yeah. It's not somethin' I brag about. There's a lot of people who'd like to take me out if they had the chance and knowing when I'm off my game gives them a perfect opportunity."

She nodded slowly, her eyes wide. "How long does it last?"

"Until dawn. It only happens when it's the night of the new moon."

She frowned, her expression thoughtful. He realized then that he'd known all along he could trust her with this. Not telling her in the first place had been entirely on him. Feeling lighter, he sat up and glanced at the sliver of moonless sky they could see through the window.

"I was so caught up in everything I forgot all about it…"

"You weren't ever going to tell me, were you?" she demanded suddenly, pulling away. He grabbed her wrist to keep her from going any further.

"I know what you're thinking; I can read you like a goddamn book Kagome, and you're wrong."

There was accusation in her gaze, but he didn't let it stop him.

"You're the first person I've told. Not even Kikyou knew."

She chewed at her bottom lip and he could feel her giving in, just a little.

"I just...had to be sure."

"That you could trust me?" she scoffed.

He nodded once and she looked away. He was surprised when she started to laugh a moment later. It was silent at first, just a small tremble in her shoulders, and then she was laughing out loud behind her hand.

"It's too funny," she explained, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You didn't trust me, I didn't trust you... We make a perfect pair, don't we?"

He smiled grimly, not sure he liked her assessment.

"So your job at the club...?" he hazarded.

She shrugged, nonchalant. "I'm working on an undercover piece for the paper. I wash glasses all shift and take notes."

He let out a shaky breath and chuckled mirthlessly to himself. That was his girl, unpredictable as always with balls of steel. Only, she wasn't really his anymore, was she? He cast an uncertain glance in her direction and saw her expression turn sombre. She kept her eyes on her hands, fidgeting with them in her lap.

"I've missed you..." she confessed softly, toying with the ring on her finger.

Yeah, he knew the feeling. He hadn't just missed her, he couldn't function without her. It was as simple as that. When she left she'd taken every good thing in his life with her. His throat closed against the words fighting their way out and he could only stare as she stood up from the couch, intent on leaving.

"I wish we could go back, but we can't. It is what it is."

"Is it Kouga?" he demanded, slowly getting to his feet. It was impossible to keep the bitterness from is tone and she shot him a sharp look. A fierce, burning jealousy spread through him as he pictured them together.

_Please Kami, anyone but him, _he pleaded, curling his trembling hands into fists.

She sighed in defeat and gestured to herself with a sweeping movement of her hand.

"Could you even want me now that you know?"

Her question caught him off guard. "You mean about Oniguomo?"

She nodded silently.

"Stupid woman," he chided, suppressing a smirk, "I never _stopped_ wanting you."

She lifted her gaze to meet his and offered him a tentative smile.

"Are we really gonna do this?"

In the dim light from the street he could see the fear and uncertainty in her gaze. She was terrified of being hurt again and he had no one to blame for that but himself. Kouga hadn't abandoned her when she needed him. Kouga hadn't pushed her away. It was all on him. He was the scum bastard who'd put that glimmer of pain in her eyes and it was killing him.

He'd been so determined to do the 'right thing' he'd wound up screwing everything up instead. What the hell did he know about what was 'right' anyway? He'd spent his whole life living on the wrong side of everything, why should this be any different?

_Because she deserves more._

She deserved the world and all he could give her was himself. It was a raw deal for her any way he sliced it, but he wasn't strong enough to say 'No'. Not when she was _this _close. Not when he could touch her and breathe her in...

"Do you really think either of us has the strength to stop?" he answered.

It was hard to get the words out past the lump in his throat. He swallowed it down, felt the burn, and let out a shuddering breath.

The agony of the past few months paled in comparison to those few quiet seconds that crept by. He'd heard somewhere that every life has one pivotal moment that changes its course forever. This was his moment. Only she could make him and only she could break him.

The waiting was torture, but she didn't make him wait long. Stepping in close, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

The breath slowly escaped from his lungs as he tentatively wrapped his arms around her. His position was precarious; he couldn't convince himself this was real. Had she really come back to him? It seemed too good to be true.

Doubt riddling his thoughts, he pulled back and cradled her face between his hands.

"I want this to be good," he determined, his tone certain. "No more lies. No more jerking each other around. If we're gonna do this, we're doing it right."

She nodded and gave him a watery smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

She was solid beneath his hands and the smell of her perfume was too real for it to be an illusion. He wanted to believe, but there was only one way to know for sure.

Wearing a tentative smile, he dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. It'd been so long since he'd felt the heat of her mouth against his or the taste of her on his tongue. So long, he almost couldn't remember what it was like.

He sampled the salty tears clinging to her lips and felt them trembling beneath his.

_I'll never hurt you again, _he promised her silently, combing his fingers through her dark hair. She lifted her head to meet him and he kissed her softly, apologetic and unsure.

Her arms slipped round his neck and she gave out a quiet moan as his mouth moved over hers, hesitant at first, and then needy. Kami how he'd missed this – the hunger, the anticipation, the _want. _

Her fingers clawed impatiently at his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He shrugged it off and made quick work of her sweater, carelessly pulling it open. Buttons scattered noisily across the floor but she didn't seem to notice or care. With a twist of her shoulders it, too, was on the floor, along with her shirt.

His hands locked beneath her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist. She moaned greedily into his kiss, her fingers sinking deep into his dark hair.

"Where are we going?" she pleaded breathlessly as he carried her through the living room.

"Finding a bed," he answered back with a grin.

With single-minded purpose he carried her down the hall to his room and deposited her atop the bed. She made quick work of his belt and he kicked off his pants, sending them to a dusty corner of the floor.

"Please don't make me wait," she pleaded, arching into him. He chuckled low in his throat and punished the nipple closest to his mouth with a sharp bite.

"Is this what you wanted," he whispered roughly into her ear as he entered her. He moved slowly so she could feel every inch. Her back arched off the bed and she wrapped her legs tight around his waist, urging him deeper.

"Tell me what you want, Kagome," he murmured against her mouth.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "You. Only you."

It was all he needed to hear.

Bodies entwined, they moved together in search of release. With every thrust that was eagerly returned, with every push and pull, another wall came down. He held her close, breathed her in and pressed his lips to the tantalizing curve of her collar bone. She threaded her fingers through his hair and whispered his name, her hips never stopping their demanding rhythm.

He lifted his face to admire the furrow of her brow, the adorable pout of her lips, and realized that he'd never want anything more in his entire life. In her arms was the promise of a happy future, a life he once thought he could never have. She made the unreachable dream seem possible.

But for now, there was just one more thing he needed.

She moaned his name as he moved inside her and let her head fall back. The opportunity didn't escape him, and he dragged his lips lightly across her throat, relishing in the satin like softness of her skin. Had he been in his normal state he never would've thought to ask, but for some reason his human self needed affirmation to be satisfied.

Human emotions were so troublesome.

Eyes closed, he rested his forehead against hers and the words came spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Tell me you love me."

His voice sounded hoarse and thick to his own ears, filled with desperation. He felt her pull away. She was looking at him, studying him, wondering if those words that were so unlike the Inuyasha she knew had really just come from his mouth.

"Inuyasha?"

Was this really what he wanted? _Yes_, his mind screamed it at him._ Yes. Yes. Yes._ In this girl was everything he'd ever wanted. It wasn't in his nature to beg, but maybe just for tonight…?

"I need…"

He stopped, unable to finish. His throat closed up, resisting the words that were there. Her warm hands came to rest on either side of his face and slowly stroked his cheek.

"I love you."

He savoured the sound of her words, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. She laughed softly and offered him a kiss when his arms moved of their own accord to wrap tightly around her waist.

"Tell me you love me just as I am," he breathed out in a rush. It was something only she could give him.

She didn't hesitate this time. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed her mouth next to his ear.

"I do. I love you just as you are." She repeated his words back to him, every one of them sounding heartfelt and genuine.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. It was the first time in his entire life someone had said those words to him, much less meant them.

When she pulled away he slipped his fingers into her hair and covered her mouth with his. He never wanted to forget how those words tasted on her lips. So sweet, like honey, and completely irresistible; he couldn't get enough.

Tonight he'd come so close to losing her forever. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. He may be a proud, stubborn bastard, but he knew a good thing when he saw it. What they had was so much better than a "good thing". It devoured him whole and he loved every tortured, heart breaking minute of it.

Selected Listening:

Hey Ocean! – Last Mistake

(This song was the complete inspiration for the 2nd half of this chapter. Go check it out on Youtube. You won't be sorry.)

Author's Note: This chapter has been a long time coming. I've had it written for about a year and I'm very happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed it :)

Many, many, many thanks to those of you who've been following this story since the beginning. Those of you who are new readers, I am just as thrilled to have you. Every single one of your reviews and comments brightens my day.

LSR isn't finished just yet so please stay along for the ride. It promises to be an exciting one :)

All the best,

Langus


	32. The Sound of Settling

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

– Chapter 32 –

The Sound of Settling

**Rin -**

The journey from her bed to his room was a blur. She couldn't remember waking up or tip toeing down the stairs. She hadn't felt the cool touch of the hardwood floors against her bare feet or the chilled night air on her skin. Had his door been open or closed? She couldn't recall. And yet, there she was, standing next to his bed.

The hows and whys of it didn't matter. It was all so inconsequential now that she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Some sound had roused him, some trifle creak of the floorboards beneath her feet or the rustle of the pants he'd given her to sleep in. One moment she was watching him sleep, thinking that he looked far less intimidating when his guard was down, and in the next she heard the ominous, hollow click of a gun trigger being cocked.

The hand holding the gun in her face was steady. His eyes were open but there was no recognition in them, no sign of any consciousness at all. Even still, his fingers bit into the flesh of her arm where he'd grabbed her and held fast.

The world slipped quietly away after that. It started at his dull, expressionless eyes. They blurred and became one solid mass of gold. His body followed suit, along with the floor beneath her feet, the room, the apartment, and Tokyo outside his door. They faded, one after the other, until the only thing that existed in her world was the end of his gun.

She came to know every detail of its construction – the colour of the metal in the dim light, its exact size and shape, and the uncompromising darkness of its endless barrel. She stared down it, stared death right in the face, and dared to take a breath. She let it out shakily and drew in another. Soon the sound of her heavy, wet breaths was the only sound at all and though it bothered her it was better than the silence. Breathing reminded her that she was alive. He hadn't pulled the trigger.

Suddenly something shifted in his eyes then and he looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since he'd sat up and put that gun in her face. Releasing her arm, he sat back and regarded her with a sharp look.

"What are you doing here?"

He stared expectantly awaiting an answer, but she had none to give. Her lungs struggled for air and her legs gave out from under her. The jarring impact of her knees hitting the floor pulled her back to reality - Tokyo, his apartment, the room, the floor, the man in front of her… It all came rushing back as she watched him calmly stash his gun beneath his pillow. The gun he'd just put it in her face. The gun he'd almost shot her with in his sleep.

She pushed herself up off the floor with trembling hands and stumbled into the darkened hallway. She crashed into something solid and heavy and swore under her breath. Pain bloomed across her thigh and she grimaced at the thought of the bruise it'd leave behind.

_A low table,_ she deduced as her fingers slipped over the polished wood.

She pressed on, fumbling towards the door using her hands against the wall as a guide.

The entryway was closer than she'd thought and once there she promptly flicked on the light. She ripped open the door to the closet and began a frantic search for her things. She hadn't brought much, just a jacket and a bag. It wouldn't take long to pack...

His presence suddenly filled the doorway. She looked up to find him dressed in brilliant white silk pants and not much else.

"It's late," he said, with only the faintest tone of censure.

She ignored him and began stuffing various items into her bag – scarf, cell phone, ipod, lip gloss…

Her hands were shaking so bad she dropped her house keys before she could get them inside. She scrambled to pick them up off the imported tile but her fingers refused to work. The source of her problem lingered in her peripheral vision until she finally gave up on her bag and stood to face him.

He looked impossibly beautiful, even in the dim artificial light. Had she been less upset she might have noticed that his torso was well sculpted, its every muscle defined and smooth against his skin. Dressed in designer suits or standing half naked in his pyjamas in his front hallway…was there ever a time he didn't look perfect?

But in truth, she was far too upset to be aware of anything more than the facts – the facts being that she didn't know a thing about him and he'd nearly killed her tonight.

"Who are you?" she managed, pushing past the suffocating fear that'd settled in her throat.

The picture of composure, he slipped his hands into his pockets and breathed an audible sigh.

"You don't want the answer to that question."

"I have a right to know…" she prodded.

"That is where you are mistaken."

He turned his back to her and headed into the kitchen, turning on the potlights over the stove as he went. She waited, considered running out the door, and then followed him. He set a kettle to boil on the element while she slid onto one of the bar stools lined up alongside the marble island.

"What kind of man sleeps with a gun under his pillow?"

He shrugged off the accusation behind her words and occupied himself with retrieving a mug from the cupboard.

"What kind of girl sneaks into a stranger's bedroom at night?"

"I wasn't…" she began to object but her words fell short.

What could she possibly say? That he wasn't a stranger? Or that she hadn't been sneaking into his room? He was and she had and there was no other reasonable explanation she could offer.

The slight lift of his eyebrow was the last expression she caught before she made a sound of disgust and turned to face the city lights. The floor to ceiling windows had been well chosen for this particular view. Tokyo stretched out before her, an endless sea of neon and white amidst the black.

His presence filled the space beside her and she discretely breathed him in. He smelled so _good_.

"You could have killed me," she said quietly, eventually lifting her gaze to his.

His expression was solemn. She'd expected cool dismissal but this was different. Maybe even men like him could make mistakes. Maybe he'd made one in bringing her here. It was what they both were thinking, though neither of them seemed willing to give the words life.

"In my world people don't pull guns on their friends."

His expression faltered and she caught a glimpse of something there. He turned away before she could read it completely and it left her feeling frustrated all over again.

With his attention diverted by the kettle boiling on the stove, she turned hers to the city below. In her world people didn't pull guns on their friends, but her world was so very far away from this place. They might as well have been on different planets.

The hollow sound of ceramic settling atop granite drew her eyes down to the steaming cup of tea sitting in front of her.

"If you still wish to leave in the morning, you are free to do so."

She looked up in time to see his back disappear into his bedroom and the door close shut behind him. The cup was warm in her hands and eventually the tremors running through them subsided. She took her time sipping it, letting it soothe her from the inside out while the city remained frozen beneath her.

Could she stay?

The idea circled around her mind, gaining support and condemnation from both sides. He'd put a gun in her face. Staying was stupid and suicidal. He hadn't known what he was doing and he'd rescued her from VOSS. He had a wife. He hadn't asked anything of her. He refused to tell her anything about himself. He'd prepared her favourite kind of tea.

She breathed in the warm, rich aroma of the Darjeeling in her cup and let it out slowly. The irony of their role reversal wasn't lost on her, and neither was the meaning behind it. Men like him always spoke with their actions rather than their words. So what had his actions told her?

Her tea had long since gone cold when she finally finished up the last sip and put her empty cup in the sink. In the distance the sky was lightening over Tokyo in hues of indigo and magenta in preparation for the coming dawn. The long night had come and gone and she was still here. Perhaps it was worth seeing what the day would bring. Everything looked different in the daylight, even him.

On her way to the stairs, her bag caught her eye and she considered it a long moment before tucking it safely into the closet. She wasn't going to accomplish anything by running when she had nowhere to go. Besides, if she left now she wouldn't learn a single thing about him. And that was the reason she'd come here in the first place, wasn't it?

xXx

**Kagome –**

Morning rolled in with a flicker of lightning and a long, low rumble of thunder. Kagome lay torn between sleep and wakefulness, listening to the sound of the rain on the window. Beneath her the bed was soft, but not her own, and her entire body thrummed with contentment.

It had been a good night. Neither of them had gotten much sleep, but she felt rested nonetheless and perfectly at peace.

Breathing in deep, she sighed softly and turned over onto her side.

He was all around her. The scent of him was on the pillow beneath her cheek and the sheets tucked neatly around her naked form. She took comfort in that and snuggled down further into them, conscious of his absence.

His room was neat, if a little bare and she found her eyes focusing on the small collection of LPs stacked atop a box in the far corner. Pink Floyd's "The Wall" poked out from the middle of the stack, its tell-tale cover giving it away. She smiled to herself, not quite sure what to make of it.

They'd never talked about their favourite bands before. Her mind unwittingly sharpened to full consciousness as she realized that there were still a lot of things she didn't know about him. Somehow they'd skipped all the normal "getting to know you" steps and jumped straight into the deep end.

She had no idea what his favourite band was, or his preferred brand of beer. Things like birthdays, ages and extended family had become inconsequential in the wake of everything else.

She may not know his favourite colour, but she knew what he was and the ramifications of what that meant. She knew about Kikyou and he knew about her past with Oniguomo. They knew all each others' secrets and in the wake of that, the rest simply didn't seem important. They'd learn it in time and really, what was the rush? They had all the time in the world to get to know each other and it brought a full blown smile to her lips.

She was still grinning when the shower in the next roomed suddenly stopped and he stepped out into the hall. He was dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist and another rubbing the water out of his silver hair.

A small glimmer of disappointment fluttered through her when she realized that he was once more in his hanyou form. There was something so encapsulating about being with him, talking with him, when he was altered and his defences were down.

His eyes hadn't held their usual shadows and she longed to explore that side of him. Just as quickly the sense of disappointment was gone, and in its place was a sort of giddy happiness she hadn't felt in years.

Seeing her, his mouth quirked into a half smile and he tossed the towel he'd been using to dry his hair into the hamper.

"Mornin'."

Her gaze travelled over his nearly naked form and she swallowed. The look in his eyes suggested that he knew exactly what he was doing to her and was enjoying every teasing minute of it. Discretely, she cleared her throat and answered with her own muffled, "Morning."

He took a seat beside her on the bed and studied her in the soft grey light. Eventually his hand came up to caress her jaw before slipping into her hair. She leaned into his touch and his lips met hers, soft and warm from the shower.

He tasted of mint and smelled faintly of the body wash he'd used only moments ago. Her hand slipped over his ribs and up his back, finding a few stray droplets of water along the way. Eventually he pulled away and looked her over again, more thoroughly this time.

"I dreamt that you left," he said softly.

His words were weighted and she stayed quiet, not quite sure how to respond. The cynical observation that she hadn't been the one to leave in the first place sprung up and she let it pass without lingering on it. Things were different now, they both were, and she had no desire to go back.

"I gotta go in to the precinct," he said, abruptly changing the subject. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise and he stood up to gather some clothes together. One drawer after another opened and shut with practiced ease and a small pile of clothes began to form at the end of his bed.

"What happened?" she asked, sensing his reluctance to go.

It was obvious in every defeated toss he made that he had about as much desire to leave his apartment today as she did to watch him go.

Sighing heavily, he scooped up his boxers, stepped into them and slid them up over his hips. Easing his body down onto the bed, he turned his head back and forth and massaged at his neck to work out the kinks. Taking her cue, she came up behind him and kneaded the tight muscles until they began to relax under the pressure of her fingertips.

"One of my leads on a case got shanked last night. He didn't make it, so now I'm back to square one."

"Who was it?" she wondered, morbidly curious.

"Yoshi Ishii. You might've heard of him…?"

He turned his head slightly, in time to catch her indifferent shrug and head shake.

"Not worth knowin' anyway," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"He was just some yakuza lackey but I got him to fess up to that arson from last fall. He was put up to it and I'd been putting the gears on him, trying to get him to tell me who it was that was payin' him off, but he refused to say nothin'. Now he's dead and I've _got_ nothin'."

She pursed her lips in thought and rested her chin atop his shoulder.

"Maybe whoever killed him did you a favour?"

He turned at that, his expression dubious.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, if you say this Ishii guy wasn't talking then maybe the guy who killed him will be an easier nut to crack. Sounds like someone didn't want him talking to you and decided to silence him before he said anything important."

He drummed his fingers against his knee as he turned over her suggestion and eventually nodded in agreement.

"Yea. Maybe ya got a point. I won't know till I get down there and see the lay of the land for myself."

With a sense of finality, he picked up his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He grabbed his pants next and then hesitated.

"I need a favour."

She looked up from where she'd been plaiting her hair into a loose braid and waited expectantly. He set his pants aside, momentarily forgetting them.

"Be here when I get back."

She opened her mouth to protest that she had things to do and her own stuff she needed to take care of, but the sight of his half-turned back gave her pause.

"It's the only way I'll know for sure…" he muttered, eventually meeting her gaze.

Taking his hand, she pulled him to her and situated herself neatly beneath the press of his body.

"I'll be here," she promised, feeling every word echo through her.

He gave a tentative, lopsided smile before kissing her. His hand skimmed up her toned thigh, gently kneading the muscles there. They were still sore from the previous night, but so was the rest of her. A little soreness wasn't going to stop either of them though, not when they still craved affirmation the way they did.

He nudged her legs apart and entered her slowly, savouring the pained hiss that escaped both of them.

"How different is it?" she wondered, wrapping her legs around his back. His lips pulled away from the curve of her throat and skimmed the tops of her breasts.

"Like night and day," he answered simply.

She wondered at that, and then gasped as he caught one of her nipples between his teeth and pulled gently.

"Last night was the first time I…" he shrugged self-consciously and dipped his head to her other breast to hide his unease.

Inwardly, she marvelled at the fact that she'd stolen his human virginity. She hadn't thought it possible, but given how private he was about his night of weakness it made a lot of sense.

"It felt like I was wearing a damn body condom. Couldn't feel a thing."

She gave him a wry grin. "Seemed like you felt things just fine. More than once, if I recall?"

He laughed lightly and slowed his rhythm to an excruciating pace.

"True enough, but I couldn't feel you like I do now." He lowered his lips to her throat and followed the line of it down the length of her breastbone.

"When I'm hanyou, I can hear your heart. It speeds up when you're enjoying yourself."

To prove his point, he quickened his pace until she dropped her head back and moaned. When she lifted it again he was smirking at her, looking rather pleased with himself.

"The sound of the breath in your lungs and your scent tell me when you want it and how bad, what you like and how far I can push you."

The breath hitched in her throat and she uttered a low 'mmmmmm'.

Well, at least now she knew the secret to how he seemed to be able to play her like his own personal instrument. She would have resented him for having that much control over her had she not enjoyed it as much as she did.

"What's my body telling you now?" she teased, boldly arching her hips.

"That you're close," he answered, sounding a little breathless himself. "But so am I."

His free hand cupped her backside and pulled her in to meet his next thrust. Her legs tightened around his waist, anticipating release.

He was right, she was close. The grip her legs had around his waist was tight enough to make a normal man wince, but he didn't seem to notice and so she clung to him until she'd ridden out the last lingering wave of her orgasm. He gasped too, and pulled her against him as he found his own release.

He eventually lowered them both back onto the mattress and his body went heavy overtop of hers. He pulled in a long, slow breath and planted a secret kiss against her neck.

"You're killing me," he teased, gently extracting himself from her limbs.

"Well, at least we're even," she shot back wearing a playful smile.

She watched silently as he finished getting dressed. There didn't seem to be anything else to say and all the words running through her mind would have only ruined the moment. So she did something completely uncharacteristic and held her tongue.

He bent to kiss her before he left, smelling both warm and inviting. She grabbed hold of his t-shirt to pull him closer and he punished her with a gentle nip. Detangling her fingers from his shirt, he pulled her in for a rough embrace and pressed a kiss into her hair.

With that, he left and she listened to the sound of the front door closing shut behind him. Finally alone, a satisfied sigh left her lips and she turned her eyes to the grey skies beyond the window. After a moment's consideration, she threw off the sheets and made her way to the shower.

She might be spending the day lounging around his apartment, but that didn't mean she couldn't make herself smell nice just the same. Remembering his words she smiled to herself and gently closed the door behind her.

xXxXxXx

_Author's Note:_ I apologize for taking a while to get this chapter out. I had some personal stuff going on that needed to be taken care of. I hope you enjoyed the new developments. As always, I'm curious to hear your thoughts on where the story is headed and how the characters are behaving :)

Just this month, LSR won **two** awards at the Feudal Association – 3rd place for both Best AU/AR Fiction and Best Drama! YAY! I really appreciate everyone who nominated and voted. It's truly an honour to be put in the same category as the other fics in contention. So thank you :)

As always, my many thanks go to you my faithful readers. Without your kind words of support this story would never have come this far.

Cheers,

Langus


	33. Into the Light

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Three –

Into the Light

The inmates of Cell Block 4 were unusually quiet. They weren't typically a rowdy bunch, but this was a different kind of quiet. There was a noticeable stillness in the air; it lingered, hanging about the way it only does when a life has been prematurely extinguished.

Detective Takahashi could feel their eyes on him, narrowed in quiet speculation as he passed them by. His destination was cell 9, former residence of Yoshi Ishii. The body was still inside, splayed out on the floor while the Coroner did his inspection.

"What've you got?" he asked, stepping into the narrow space.

The Coroner was a middle aged bean pole with a terrible combover. He glanced up as Takahashi entered, eyeballed him from behind his thick glasses and dismissed him with an indifferent shake of his head.

Gesturing to the large blood stain covering the right half of Ishii's prison jumper, he explained, "I found a single stab wound on his chest, just under his left arm."

To illustrate, he pulled away a section of the polyester blue jumper and pointed to the small red wound at its centre.

"My guess is the weapon slipped between the ribs and went just far enough to perforate the lung. From there, he asphyxiated on the blood."

"So whoever did this caught him by surprise… Either that or it was someone he trusted enough to let his guard down. Ishii wasn't stupid. He knew how to watch his back."

The Coroner shrugged in passive agreement.

Inuyasha's mind was already churning out theories as he took a tour of the cell and tried to stage the scene. It could've been just your typical inmate rivalry, but it was too much of a coincidence for his liking. Besides, Ishii didn't have a bunk mate which meant that his suspect pool was anyone and everyone with access to Cell Block 4.

Given what Ishii knew, Kagome's theory was starting to make a lot of sense. It was easy enough to stage a hit and make it look like a prison rivalry gone bad. Making his way further into the cell, he nodded at the discarded toothbrush on the floor. It was covered in blood and one end had been neatly filed into a sharp point.

"This the murder weapon?"

The Coroner nodded distractedly and wrestled with slipping Ishii's body into the body bag.

"Seems like it. It's the only thing we found in here that fits the size of the entry wound. You can bag it. I'm done here, anyway."

Inuyasha sealed the toothbrush in an evidence bag and held it up to the dim florescent light. It wasn't much to go on, but maybe they'd get lucky with a fingerprint or blood. It hadn't been cleaned so chances were good there was at least some trace left on it.

Feeling eyes on him, he lowered the toothbrush and glanced down at the Coroner. The man was crouched down and thoroughly engrossed with the task of packing up his tools. He wasn't the source of the hairs suddenly standing up on the nape of his neck. Looking across the hall, he met the gaze of the inmate in Cell 12. He stood with his arms hanging lazily through the bars and was watching them carefully. He didn't blink, didn't move, just stared.

Takahashi tucked the shank in his pocket and wondered what god was smiling down on him today. If luck was on his side, they wouldn't need to worry about forensics. Sidestepping the Coroner, he strode across the narrow cement corridor and stood just out of arm's reach.

"What's your name?"

The inmate held his gaze and remained silent.

"If you saw somethin' I could make it worth your while to share it."

"You got nuthin' I want."

The inmate pulled away from the bars, found his bed and stretched out across it with his hands behind his head.

"What are you in for?" Takahashi tried again.

"Robbery, murder, the usual."

"If you saw something it could shave some years off your sentence."

The man smirked at that. "Not likely. I'm here on a life sentence. A year or two don't mean much when I'm looking at 25."

"We can negotiate some privileges for you – extra TV time, more time in the yard."

"If I talk to you, I won't live long enough to enjoy them."

"You seem pretty certain about that."

The inmate shrugged as if this were common knowledge and Inuyasha's brow furrowed.

"So what are you tellin' me?"

"I ain't told you nuthin'!" He sat up, stone-faced, and glared at him from his bunk.

"All I know's that if randoms are walkin' in here and killin' inmates, you've got some piss poor security. Might wanna look into it."

Momentarily caught off guard, Inuyasha had to work to keep his expression neutral. An inside job? Was it even possible? Who'd risk a career over taking out a guy like Ishii? And who the hell wanted him dead bad enough to make it happen?

"Who worked this block last night?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Why take my word for it? I could be lyin' through my teeth," the inmate scoffed.

"Because you've got no reason to lie to me and they've got every reason."

A tingle ran up his spine. His instincts were buzzing on high alert. There was more to this, much more. What wasn't he seeing?

The inmate stood and grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the roll sitting on the floor. He gestured that he wanted a pen and Takahashi tossed one to him through the bars. It was completely against protocol, but the guy didn't look suicidal and at this point he was well beyond caring about protocol.

The man took a few minutes to scribble a note and then tossed the pen back to him. The toilet paper he wadded up and tossed outside his cell onto the floor.

"A little present for you and your shit eatin' friends," he shouted and then chuckled as he flushed the toilet. Takahashi lifted a brow at the display and hid a smirk. This guy was almost as good as he was.

Playing along with the show, he kicked the wad with his shoe and loudly snapped on a latex glove.

"You're a friggin' moron, son. You can bet your ass I'll take this down to the lab and have them test it for every drug imaginable."

He grabbed an empty evidence bag from Ishii's cell and quickly slipped the toilet paper inside.

"Fuck you!"

The inmate was watching him like a hawk from his bunk and gave him a nod as he passed. Takahashi shook his head and stalked down the corridor to the exit.

"Enjoy solitary you dumb shit!" he called back over his shoulder, slamming the heavy iron door behind him.

It was impossible to know who he could trust anymore. He glanced from one corrections officer to the next with a guarded look. It could be any one of them. The thought of taking down one of his own made him sick, but he'd go where the evidence led him - even if it was to his own front door.

Tucking the evidence bag with the inmate's message into his pocket, he started for the evidence lab to check in the shank. He'd barely gone two steps into the gallery when Kouga sidled up to him wearing his trademark cocky grin.

"Heya, Mutt!"

"What do you want?" he snarled, eager to get away.

"I had to see it for myself."

"See what?"

Kouga crossed his arms and his grin widened.

"Well one of my boys called me and said you were down here, lookin' like Susie fucking Sunshine. I figure there's only one way that could happen."

Inuyasha's expression darkened and Kouga laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as they walked.

"Fair warning, mutt - don't fuck it up this time. You break her heart again and you just know she'll come running to me in search of a shoulder to cry on. Of course, being the nice guy that I am I'll be only too happy to help."

Yeah, he knew that alright. There wasn't a chance in hell he was going to do anything to jeopardize this, especially now that he'd finally got her back. His life was finally, finally coming together. He wasn't gonna let that go without a fight.

He gave Kouga a cool stare and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. I got shit to do. Get out of my way."

Kouga stepped back with his hands up and smiled.

"Whatever you say. Catch ya later, Mutt!"

He waited until Kouga had sauntered down the stairs to the lobby before taking a detour into the men's room. Kicking the stall door shut behind him, he fished the inmate's note out of his pocket and opened it. All it read was – _Tomorrow. 11 AM._

Exhaling the breath he'd been holding, he tossed the note into the toilet and flushed it down.

xXx

The subway car coasted into _Tochomae _Station and came to an easy stop. Around her people shuffled by, moving in and out of the large double doors that led to the platform. There were many interesting characters who found their way onto the Tokyo subways – business men, old women, students in uniform, Goth kids and Lolita girls – but she was only interested in one.

Rin discretely watched the man standing behind her in the mirror next to the door. No one touched him as they crowded into the car. Not a single brush, jolt or 'sumimasen' was sent his way. It was as though they instinctively knew who he was. He didn't need to work to dominate a room. His very presence dominated it for him.

That was how it was the first time he entered the Café. She'd been in the back room removing a rack of cookies from the oven. Suddenly the atmosphere changed, became charged and heavy. Thinking it strange, she set down her tray and walked out into the café to find him settling down into a chair.

At first she'd thought it was ridiculous. This one man couldn't possibly be the reason for the strange feeling taking hold in her chest, but there was no one else around. The moment he noticed her and lifted his eyes to meet hers she knew there could be no other cause. He was that great force, unstoppable, uncompromising, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore.

A part of her was scared of him and wanted to scurry back into the kitchen. A different part of her was captivated and unendingly curious about what sort of man possessed the power to bring an entire room to a standstill. Hardly thinking, she'd grabbed a pot of coffee and their best cup and walked it over to him.

From that small interaction, she now found herself riding the same train with this enigmatic stranger, having just left his apartment mere moments before. He'd been waiting for her in the living room when she'd come down the stairs. When he'd broken away from staring out at the city to look at her, she'd felt her stomach flutter.

"Do you still wish to leave?"

It was such a simple question coming from anyone but him. Pausing behind his sofa, she ran her hands across the butter soft leather before shaking her head.

"I'd like to stay a little while longer, if that's okay."

He acquiesced with a nod and went about collecting his wallet and keys from the side table.

"I have business to attend to in _Akasaka_. Will you be needing to buy clothes?"

With a glance down at the simple belted white dress she wore, she nodded. It was her only change of clothes apart from the ones she'd worn at the club and she didn't have any interest in wearing those again.

He shrugged into his jacket and gave her an expectant look. Catching his drift, she made for the hall closet to grab her jacket and purse.

Not a word about the previous night had been uttered in the time since they'd left and she was certain it never would be. Behind her, he retrieved his phone from the inner pocket of his jacket and answered it with a simple "Is it finished?" She watched his face carefully as he listened to the response on the other end. No flicker of emotion crossed it, even when he lowered the phone from his ear and snapped it shut. She turned to face him, her brow lifted in surprise.

"Business?" she asked, more than a little curious.

His eyes darted to the subway map overhead while he tucked the phone into his jacket. The next stop was _Shinjuku_, 2 minutes out.

"We're getting out at the next station," he said quietly. His hand wrapped around her upper arm and he discretely manoeuvred her closer to the door.

"But _Akasaka_'s still four stops away…" she protested. "Are we going somewhere else?"

"Ask questions later," he instructed as the train coasted to a halt.

The moment the doors hissed open he pushed her onto the platform and half-dragged her up the first flight of stairs and through the ticket gate. The pressure of his fingers around her arm was bordering on painful and she struggled to keep pace as he guided her to the stairs heading to the street level.

"What's going on?" she demanded, digging in her heels. He turned on her, his face awash with frustration. Suddenly his eyes darted to the ceiling overhead and the ground beneath their feet began to tremble.

"Earthquake!" someone called out from below as if they didn't already know.

They were a frequent occurrence in Tokyo but this one was stronger than most. She wobbled unsteadily in her heeled boots as dust began to fall from the ceiling above their heads. A creak and groan followed by a solid crash indicated that a ceiling tile had fallen somewhere behind them. She ducked her head beneath her arms as more dust filled the air. A few women screamed as the intensity of the shaking increased, many of them crouched low to the ground for safety.

Another crack sounded, this time above her. She felt herself being jerked suddenly forward and her body met the solid wall of his chest. He lifted his jacket over them, shielding her from the falling ceiling and the shower of chalky dust. She held tight to him, this unmovable force, and let him protect her while the world shook all around them. Despite what had happened the night before there was one truth she could not deny – around him she felt safe.

She lifted her eyes to find him watching her, his expression one she hadn't seen on him before.

"Are you injured?"

She shook her head, mute, and noticed how close his lips were to hers. He noticed too and stood taller, taking a long moment to study the ceiling above their heads. It appeared sound enough to appease him and he gave a reassuring nod.

As the tremors began to subside, he nudged her towards the stairs and followed her up them to the street above. The city above was bright and busy. A few people looked shaken and some glass from broken windows littered the streets, but otherwise everything was normal.

Exhaling a heavy sigh of relief, she turned to the man who'd saved her, yet again, and watched him shake the chalky dust from his jacket. Realizing that it wouldn't come clean easily, he instead draped it over his arm and surveyed the street.

"Back there… You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" she asked, drawing close.

He gave her a speculative look before turning his attention to the street. Taxi cabs were already congesting the thoroughfare, packed with stranded commuters. Tokyo traffic was fickle at the best of times. After an earthquake, it was a nightmare.

"The trains will not be running," he deduced with a glance down the darkened subway stairs. "We'll go on foot from here. I'll escort you to the shopping district and you can get back yourself from there. This is the number for my chauffeur, call it and he will pick you up whenever you are ready."

Rin accepted the business card from him and tucked it into her purse without looking at it.

"Wait…" she protested as he started off down the street. He stopped and waited for her to catch up.

"I… I don't want to be alone right now. I really hate earthquakes. There's always aftershocks when they're that big," she confessed, keeping her eyes on the spotted pavement.

She knew how ridiculous it sounded and loathed the thought of tagging along at his side like a lost puppy, but it was preferable to the alternative. She'd be a basket case the rest of the day without the quiet reassurance of his presence.

He reluctantly consented with a nod of his head.

"You may accompany me, but you will have to entertain yourself."

Rin nodded readily and smiled, thankful that he hadn't turned her down.

"So what do you do exactly?" she wondered, falling in step beside him.

It was a long moment before he answered, "Investments."

oOo

The first place they stopped at was an auto parts store, oddly enough. He instructed her to wait outside while he went in to have a brief chat with the owner. She watched the comings and goings of the neighbourhood, conscious of all the double looks and stares she was getting.

Suddenly feeling self conscious, she glanced down at her outfit expecting there to be some large stain or hole through her white dress. Apart from a bit of chalk dust on her denim jacket and boots, she looked perfectly normal. She glanced up in time to see a young boy staring at her as he cycled by and she glared at him.

"Stupid jerk," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Did you say something?"

Startled, she looked back to find Sesshomaru watching her. She hadn't heard him leave the shop, but was relieved that his business was over so quickly.

"Uh… no!" she answered quickly. "Where to next?"

He nodded down the street and she followed him to a clothing store a few blocks away. It was the same routine at the second place. She waited outside and received stares and glares from every direction while he conducted business with the owner.

Annoyed by the sudden onslaught of unwanted attention, she decided to browse through the store. He was nowhere to be found inside, so she took her time sifting through the selection of printed t-shirts and spring dresses they had on display.

The sales girl was kind enough to help her and she eventually chose a purple t-shirt with a cute character on it, a flowery summer dress, and a pair of tights. Satisfied, she made her way to the register to pay.

"Did you feel that earthquake earlier?" the sales girl asked, her forehead creasing into a worried frown.

Rin nodded and glanced uneasily at the street beyond the shop window.

"Yeah... We were in the subway when it happened. They're always so scary! I hate them!"

"Me too. Alright, so the total is 1 man, 5 sen en."

Rin fished her wallet out of her purse just as he appeared from the back room. A young man followed him, lingering a few paces behind. He was tall and lanky but the way he slouched when he walked made him appear much shorter. He kept his eyes on the floor and his hands in his pockets.

Sesshomaru stopped behind her and gestured to the door, "Time to go."

"Okay! Almost done." Turning back to the sales girl she offered her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry! How much was it again?"

The girl blanched and her eyes quickly darted between her and Sesshomaru. She hesitated with her hands still mid-way through packing her clothes into the bag.

"Today, it's free," the young man interjected, suddenly stepping forward. He gave a nod in Sesshomaru's direction and then held out the bag of clothes to Rin.

"But…" she tried to object, holding out her money.

"Just take it and go. _Please_."

His eyes were pleading with her and so she reluctantly accepted the bag from him.

"Th-thank you," she muttered, looking between him and the sales girl with a thoroughly confused expression. Neither seemed able to meet her eye. Feeling uneasy about the entire situation, she tucked her wallet back into her purse and followed Sesshomaru out the door.

"What happened in there?" she asked as he continued down the sidewalk to their next destination.

"It's nothing to be concerned about," he answered cryptically.

Rin stared down at the bright red bag swinging from her fingers and couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. The way they'd both looked at her the moment they realized she was with him...it was like they were terrified. She glanced up at his broad shoulders and straight back and wondered what kind of business he had with these companies, exactly.

She was still considering this as he came to a stop at their next destination. It was a traditional style sushi restaurant. The sign on the door said they were closed until lunch, but he disregarded it and pushed the sliding door open. Ducking beneath the curtain hanging in the door, he entered and left it open for her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, inviting her to sit at the bar.

She hadn't eaten any breakfast before they left. The adrenaline rush from the earthquake had kept her hunger at bay for a while, but at the mention of food it suddenly came to life with a roar. She nodded hesitantly and motioned to the door.

"But the sign said they were closed…"

He didn't seem the least bit troubled by this and it was then that she noticed there were already other customers inside with them. She could hear them now, discussing things in quiet voices in the private booths. Relaxing against the bar, she smiled with relief and picked up a menu.

"I may be a while," he said quietly before departing.

She nodded in agreement and watched him disappear through another set of curtained doors at the opposite end of the restaurant. She eagerly thumbed through the menu and read the daily special. When she was ready to order, she glanced up to find a young woman staring at her intently, her pen already poised and ready over her notepad.

"I'd like to have the lunch set please. It looks delicious!"

The woman made a quick note and asked what she wanted to drink.

"Just tea is fine," she answered with a smile. The woman didn't return it and quickly turned heel, disappearing into the back room.

Rin rested her chin on her hand while she waited and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. The small green light on the display blinked up at her, notifying her that she'd missed a call. Surprised, she flipped it open and stared blankly at the number on her caller display. She didn't recognize it and they hadn't bothered to leave a message.

"Wonder if it was a wrong number?"

Sighing, she snapped her phone shut and deposited it back into her purse. The girl returned looking as serious as before, bearing her tea and lunch set on a tray. She set it down in front of her and quickly left.

Rin eyed the small feast before her, snapped a quick photo with the camera on her phone, and then eagerly dug in. The miso was steaming and delicious and the maguro was some of the freshest she'd ever tasted.

She happily preoccupied herself with eating for a while, but eventually boredom set in again and she began tuning her ears to the conversations around her. From what she could gather there were two groups of patrons, one in the private booth behind her and another in the large, private room at the opposite end of the restaurant.

The group in the private room were loud and boisterous, sounding as though they'd already started drinking even though it was barely 11 o'clock. The group behind her spoke in hushed tones, sounding far more serious than their companions. She wasn't overly interested in what they were saying. It mostly sounded like dry business talk. That was, until she heard his name.

Setting down her chopsticks, she picked up her cup of tea and pretended to take a long sip as she strained her ears to listen.

"Kobayashi had him killed."

"When?"

"This mornin'. Had someone on the inside."

A mutter made its way around the table and Rin set down her tea. She remembered back to their subway trip and the brief phone call he'd taken. Was it possible that he…? No. She shook her head, refusing to believe it. It was ridiculous! He owned a gun, but a lot of people had them for protection. That didn't mean he was a killer!

Convinced she'd simply heard wrong, Rin resumed her lunch but couldn't shake her curiosity. Before long her ears were tuned once more to the conversation taking place behind her.

"He's making the rounds today. Teramoto-san's been shitting his pants all morning."

"What's he got to hide?"

"Didn't you know? He's been doing favours for Inagawa-kai."

A mutter of understanding circled the table.

"Does he have a death wish?" one of them remarked bluntly.

"The economy's bad and he got desperate. Kobayashi showing up here today's really bad timing. He might've been able to hide it better if he'd been given another couple of weeks but he's gonna figure it out."

"Shit… That dumb sonofabitch. He could've gone to anyone but Inagawa-kai. Everyone knows they've got a history."

Another mutter of agreement and Rin felt her lunch harden into a ball at the bottom of her stomach. Suddenly the looks she'd been getting all day and the abrupt change of heart by the store clerk made a lot of sense. These people were terrified of him because they had every right to be. When he'd told her he did investments, he'd conveniently left out the part about being a loan shark and collector.

Even worse, if he had a history with Inagawa-kai, that could only mean one thing – he was yakuza too.

The cop who'd come to question her at VOSS had asked about yakuza. He thought she might have known someone connected to them, someone who might have been behind the arson. At the time she'd told him no, but now...

She sucked in a ragged breath and lifted a trembling hand to her lips. What if he _was_ involved? Panic took a sudden vicious hold in her chest and refused to be shaken free. Terrified of what he might do, and of what he'd already done, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out the door. She didn't know where she was going to go, and she didn't care. At this point, the only thing that mattered was getting as far away from him as possible.

She was still hurriedly pulling her coat over her shoulders when her phone buzzed in her purse. Flipping it open she pressed it to her ear and muttered a distracted, "Hello?"

The man on the other end of the line discretely cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. Is this Ms. Rin Takeda?"

"This isn't a good time. If you're selling something-"

"I'm calling on behalf of your brother."

Her feet came to a sudden halt on the sidewalk and the world stopped along with them. She simply stood there, numb, while her brain tried to wrap itself around the words she'd just heard.

When her lungs were finally able to draw breath and feeling returned to her limbs, she managed a strangled, "What?"

Her answer came from the other end of the line, punctuated and businesslike, "I have a message from your brother. He's alive and he wants to meet."

* * *

_Author's Note: T_hank you to everyone who was kind enough to send me messages asking if I was okay. It was truly touching to see how many people care about me out there in the great wide internet :) You guys are awesome. Rest assured, I am safe and sound here in Japan. Things are still not so great up north, but everyone is pitching in and helping out the best they can.

I am so sorry for the wait on this chapter. It's extra long though so I hope that sort of makes up for it? Maybe? As you can see, things are getting interesting between Rin and Sesshomaru. What will she do now that she knows who and what he is, I wonder? Hmmmm...

Stay tuned for the next chapter and thank you for reading!

Cheers,

Langus


	34. The Weight of Us

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Four –

The Weight of "Us"

Inuyasha hesitated before opening the door to his apartment. He wanted her to be inside with every bone that was in his body. He'd been busy enough at the precinct to keep his mind preoccupied for the majority of the day, but his walk home had been a long one fraught with worry.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if she'd left, wasn't sure what he _could_ do. He'd put all of his trust in her, more than anyone ever before in his life. It was a first for him and he was having difficulty adjusting. It would be a while before he'd be accustomed to the vulnerability that went along with letting someone in completely. There were so many ways she could hurt him now, but the only one he cared about for the moment was the immediate one – had she stayed?

His key clicked in the lock and he pushed the door open.

What struck him first was the smell – her scent wrapped around him like a warm hug, putting his fears at ease. He exhaled with relief as he kicked the door shut behind him and set his bags down on the floor.

Kagome emerged from the living room wearing a brilliant smile and he eagerly scooped her up for a kiss. She tossed his hat aside and mussed his hair, laughing at the small rumble of pleasure that reverberated through his chest when she scratched behind his ears.

He set her down gently, not yet willing to let her go completely, and her arms lingered around his neck.

"How was work?" she wondered.

He made a face and shrugged, "Work."

"I missed you," she purred, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He grinned and pulled back, taking a moment to look around his apartment.

"It smells like a woman in here."

She laughed and pulled out of his embrace, "Well you had one cooped up here all day."

Retrieving his hat from the floor, he set it down on the table and took a moment to look around his sparkling clean apartment.

"You cleaned?"

She shrugged and straightened a pile of letters on a side table.

"I got bored. Did you think I was just going to lay in bed naked waiting for you to get back?"

He lifted his brow and gave her a lopsided grin.

"The thought crossed my mind."

She glared at him playfully and hopped up onto the kitchen counter. He settled himself between her legs and wrapped his arms around her narrow waist.

"Wanna stay forever? I could use a cleaning lady."

"I've already got a job, one that I need to get back to tomorrow."

His face fell but he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I know. A man can dream though, right?"

His gave her a lingering kiss before pulling away and opening the fridge door.

"I wasn't allowed to leave so I couldn't buy any groceries," she explained, frowning at the empty fridge.

"What'd you want to do for dinner? Eat out or eat in?"

"I vote both."

He grinned at the double entendre and scooped her up off the counter.

"You ask, I deliver," he quipped, snatching the phone book off the floor.

The sudden dance rhythm of her cell phone's ring jingled through the apartment. She frowned and squirmed down to fish it out of her purse.

"Sorry," she apologized, pulling it out. "It might be work. I have to take it."

Content to wait, he set the phone book down and made himself comfortable at the kitchen table. He was just flipping to the restaurant section of the phonebook when she answered.

"Rin?"

Rin… He knew that name. The girl from the club? His interest piqued, he looked up and watched her expression morph from surprise to concern.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Where are you?"

Kagome shot him a helpless look and slumped down onto the arm of his sofa.

"Okay, that's not far from here. Come on over, I'll give you directions."

Inuyasha sat back and tried very hard to keep a 'what the fuck' expression off his face. A few minutes later Kagome snapped her phone shut and looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry… I know you don't like inviting strangers over, but she sounded really upset."

Setting her phone aside she lowered herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

He smirked and brushed his lips down her arm, "Yes, you will."

Pursing her lips, she flicked his ear and turned her attention to the phone book.

"So… Italian or Indian?"

xXx

Rin hesitated before knocking on the door. This seemed like the right address but did Kagome really live in a place like this?

She heard a door slam loudly on another floor and some shouted profanities in the stairwell. Pulling out her phone, she dialled 1-1-0 just in case. When she looked up she met the dead-eyed stare of a man at the end of the hall. He lingered in his doorway, eyeing her up and down. He cupped himself and blew a kiss in her direction and she did her best to pretend she hadn't seen it.

Deciding that it would be better to wait inside Kagome's place than stay any longer in the hall, she sucked up her courage and knocked loudly on the door. Kagome's voice greeted her from the other side and a moment later the door was jerked open. She smiled at her and gestured for her to come inside. The sudden wave of relief she felt at seeing a friendly face almost brought her to tears.

"Rin! What happened?"

Kagome put an arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch. She sank down into it and looked around the clean but shabby apartment.

"This your place?" she managed with a dubious look. She didn't want to be judgmental, but she really thought Kagome had better style. The place looked like a total bachelor pad.

Kagome seemed to find her question particularly funny and laughed as she got up to get them something to drink.

"Hell no! Come on, Rin. I've got better taste than this! This is my boyfriend's place. I was already here when you called so I thought it'd be better if you just came here. I hope that's okay?"

She set a glass of water in front of her and settled down in the lay-z-boy with a concerned look. Rin took a shaky sip of the water and shook her head.

"No, no it's fine. I'm so sorry to intrude. Is he here?"

Her eyes glanced around the small apartment and Kagome nodded towards the bathroom.

"He's in the shower. He just got in from work so he said it'd give us a chance to talk alone for a bit."

Blowing out a quiet sigh of relief, Rin relaxed back into the chair and tried to piece together everything that had happened to her today. She didn't have the first clue how to put any of it into words. First with Sesshomaru, and then the news about her brother… How was it possible for her entire universe to be turned upside down in the course of an hour?

"Rin, you look really shaken up. What happened today? Did one of the customers at the club hurt you?"

She shook her head, but couldn't meet Kagome's eye. Looking to stall, she took another sip of her water and quietly set the glass down again.

"I don't work at the club anymore," she managed after softly clearing her throat.

"What? Since when?"

"Two days ago."

"Did you find a new job?" Kagome's tone was hopeful and she felt a bit ashamed to shake her head again.

"Not exactly. Remember that private customer I had?"

She looked up long enough to see Kagome's head nod before returning her gaze to the table. The breath escaped her lungs in a quiet sigh before she admitted, "He paid the owner to let me out of my contract."

"Rin…"

Kagome's tone was wary and she blushed.

"It… It's not like that. I knew him from before, from when I worked at the Café."

It was Kagome's turn to sit back.

"So he was a friend?"

Rin hesitated before nodding, "Something like that…"

"That's good then, right?"

She went quiet, not quite sure how to explain the rest. She didn't want to worry Kagome needlessly, but she needed someone else to know. She needed someone who didn't know anything about Sesshomaru to tell her that she was absolutely crazy for leaving with him and that she should report him to the police. Her own brain didn't seem capable of accepting either, and neither did her heart.

"I think… I think he might have had something to do with the fire at the Café."

Kagome's brows shot up, "Why do you think that?"

Rin paused for a heartbeat before answering, "He's yakuza."

She looked up at Kagome's gasp and held her breath. This was exactly the reaction she'd been expecting. Kagome looked torn between wanting to hug her and wanting to shake some sense into her.

"How long have you known?" she breathed.

"I only found out today. He doesn't know I know, but maybe he's figured it out by now… I just kind of ran off."

Kagome frowned and got to her feet. She paced a few steps back and forth before sitting down again. She reached across the chair and suddenly took her hands in hers. They were warm and she held them tight until their eyes met.

"You can stay with me for as long as you need to, no questions asked."

Rin nodded hesitantly, having no intention whatsoever on taking her up on the offer. She couldn't impose on her like that. She and Kagome were friends from work, but they weren't close enough that she'd feel comfortable doing that.

Sensing her reluctance, Kagome dropped her hands and took her by the shoulders instead.

"Rin, these people are no joke. You don't want to get involved with someone like him. Believe me, I would know."

"What do you mean?"

Kagome's hands suddenly dropped away and she looked uncomfortable.

"I…," she began to say, but thinking better of it she shook her head.

"That's not important now. Just please promise me you won't go back to him. I know he seems different from any man you've ever met and how alluring that can be, but it's not worth it. _Trust_ me."

The tears suddenly glimmering in her friend's eyes didn't escape Rin's notice. There was obviously a long back story there that Kagome didn't feel comfortable sharing. She wished she would. Maybe it would give her some perspective. Right now all her brain was doing was agreeing with everything she was saying about him being alluring and mysterious without taking the time to comprehend any of the consequences.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be okay."

"Are you _sure_?"

Rin jerked her head in a nod and Kagome seemed to reluctantly accept it.

"If I'm interrupting 'girl talk' I can leave."

Rin's eyes opened wide and her head shot up. Kagome was smiling over her shoulder at her boyfriend who'd just emerged from the hall and was on his way to the fridge. She knew that voice! Still, she waited until he emerged from the kitchen to be sure. Detective Takahashi stepped out into the living room with a beer in hand and smiled at her.

"Rin, long time no see."

She looked at Kagome, her eyes filled with panic.

"_He's_ your boyfriend?"

"Ouch…"

The Detective gave her a sour look before disappearing into the kitchen with his beer. Kagome merely shrugged.

"I didn't think it mattered. Look, if you're in trouble he can help. Give him the name of this guy and he'll take him in. You don't have to be scared of him anymore!"

Rin shook her head and slowly got to her feet.

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

Kagome jumped up and tried to stop her.

"Rin, come on. Let us help you!"

"No!" She pulled her arm out of Kagome's grasp and slung her purse over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

"Rin, wait!"

She heard Kagome call to her as she pulled open the door, but she couldn't stop. This wasn't what she wanted. Jail? No… Never! Just the thought of Sesshomaru being caged up like some vicious animal was ludicrous. He didn't belong in that place, next to petty thieves and thugs. He'd saved her too many times to be repaid like that!

She slammed the door to the Detective's apartment shut behind her and tore down the stairs to the street, praying they wouldn't follow.

On the surface her meeting with Kagome hadn't accomplished much, but it'd been exactly what she'd needed. It'd helped her to get her thoughts and priorities in order. If she was going to find the strength to confront him, it was going to come from within. No one else could do it for her. It was decided then – she'd have to face him herself, demand an explanation, and go from there.

He didn't deserve any less, and neither did she.

xXx

Kagome sensed that he was awake before she opened her eyes. Rolling over, she tucked herself neatly into his side and rested her head atop his shoulder. His hand went to her back and drifted down her spine.

"Do you do this a lot?"

"Wake up with a beautiful woman in my bed?" he quipped. After a moment of silence on her end, he sighed softly.

"It comes and goes. Some weeks are worse than others."

She shifted and re-adjusted her head to get more comfortable.

"What are you thinking about this time?"

He pulled in a deep breath and lifted his brow as though he hardly knew himself. Letting it out with a 'whoosh' he confessed, "About your friend from earlier."

"Rin?"

She lifted her head to study his features in the dim light. He wasn't giving anything away. He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, his hand still drawing figures up and down her back.

He nodded and thought to himself for a moment before adding, "I've met her before."

"I know. I saw you talking to her at the Club. At the time I thought maybe you were talking to her about me."

He shook his head and frowned. "She's the only witness to that arson at the Café."

"I thought there weren't any witnesses," Kagome interjected, her tone guarded. "I knew she worked there but…"

Again, he shook his head.

"No, she was there," he said, the gravity of his tone suggesting there was more to the story.

"She gave me the guy on a silver platter, even brought in an ID sketch she'd done of him. Then she suddenly gets cold feet and wants nothing to do with the case. She refused to press charges and then claimed she had no idea why he'd targeted her."

A knot of worry twisted in her stomach. "Press charges for what?"

"You didn't know?"

He lifted his head to look at her but at seeing the blank expression on her face laid back down again. Another sigh escaped his lips and his hand stilled on her back.

"The guy raped her before he burned the building down. That's how I knew it was personal. Ishii didn't have any sexual assaults on his record. He was strictly an arson guy, which means she was more than a victim of opportunity."

"Ishii… That's your witness who got killed, right?"

Inuyasha frowned. "Yeah, that's him. He was handpicked to burn down the café and send a message to someone through your friend Rin. Who that someone is, I don't know. Then the one guy who can connect the dots for us winds up dead. She shows up here tonight and the minute she sees me she darts out of here faster than a cat across a hot tile roof."

"So you're saying you think she knows more than she's letting on?"

"I'm saying I don't believe in coincidences. Rin knows who's behind this. She's gotten herself in over her head and is scared."

"Maybe I could talk with her again?" she suggested, resting her chin atop her hand.

He thought it over a moment before shaking his head.

"Too late now. She knows we're connected so she's not going to trust you."

Kagome shook her head and sighed in frustration. She hated feeling so helpless. Rin was a good kid; the thought of anything bad happening to her forced her heart into her throat.

"This is stupid. We're only trying to help her," she moaned, knowing all too well what it felt like to be in her position.

She'd been there, kami how she'd been there. She knew how easy it was to make excuse after excuse for them, to deny that anything was wrong. And she could remember, too, refusing help from anyone who offered it. Going from day to day with that constant fear of discovery was no way to live.

Inuyasha nodded understandingly and combed his fingers through her hair.

"Yeah, I know. If she's involved with those kinds of people though, we really can't protect her. You know that better than anyone. For now, she's smart to keep her mouth shut - even if it's frustrating as all hell for me and my case."

"So what are you gonna do in the meantime?"

"Lay awake and try to find the missing link," he answered with a humourless smile.

xXx

It was after midnight when she finally stood outside his door staring at the nameplate. The kanji had been carved into a sleek slab of black granite and then inlaid in the wall next to his door. It was opulent and a bit gaudy, she thought, but it went with the territory of owning a penthouse suite. Her eyes lingered on the kanji of his name. They were simple and innocuous, so painfully normal and yet they'd changed everything she thought she knew about him.

Her afternoon had been spent inside a McDonalds, sipping cups of lukewarm coffee and going over everything she wanted to say to him. He did a fair good job of avoiding questions he didn't feel inclined to answer which only made her search for the truth all the more frustrating. She could go inside his place tonight and end up leaving with no more answers than she'd had when she arrived.

After a long internal debate, she eventually fished his business card out of her purse and called the number for his chauffer. The man answered sounding very formal and businesslike. She gave him directions to the restaurant and he told her he'd be there in exactly 20 minutes.

A black Bentley with dark tinted windows pulled up exactly 19 minutes later and the driver opened the door for her to get in. It was a silent ride to his apartment. She tried to pay attention to the streets so she could find her way back to the city centre if need be, but the driver took enough twists and narrow side streets to make that impossible.

When they arrived at his apartment complex, Rin stared up at it uncertainly through the window.

"When you go inside, please take the elevator to the 37th floor," the driver instructed helpfully.

She thanked him with a distracted nod and exited the car.

She had a long time to consider her decision on the elevator ride up. She could leave now and he would never know she'd been here at all. He might even leave her alone for good. But then she'd feel like a coward and would never know the reason why he'd imposed himself on her life.

Plus, there was the issue of her brother. In her heart she knew he was the only person she could talk to about him. He would know what to do, maybe he could even help. If her brother truly was alive then her entire world was about to change. Regardless of everything else and his part in it, she needed him - just this one last time.

She cleared her throat and steeled herself to expect the worst before ringing his doorbell. It was quiet inside. She couldn't hear any sound of movement, no music on the radio or buzz from the TV – not that he ever watched any. She hadn't once seen him turn on the large plasma screen that hung over the deco fireplace in his sitting room.

His lock turned over with a hollow click and the door was pulled open. He stood in the doorway, his body haloed by the dim light from the kitchen. They stared at one another in silence for a long moment before he pulled away and stood to the side so she could enter. She set her bags down on the floor and took off her jacket while he retreated towards the living room.

He retrieved a glass of something alcoholic from the kitchen counter as he passed it by, the ice cubes inside clinking loudly. Wary of his silence, she followed him into the sitting room. He'd settled himself on the leather sofa and was sipping from the glass in his hand. The smell of alcohol was strong and his decanters were looking rather empty.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, her brow lifted in surprise.

His glassy eyed gaze shifted to her and then back at the wall. She'd seen him drink before, but she had a feeling it took a lot to get him to the point he was at now – lounging on his expensive leather couch, with the collar of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled.

Wondering if it was still a good idea to talk to him like this, she lingered next to the ottoman before finally sitting down on top of it. Her mind struggled over what question she wanted answered first. If his inhibitions were low, maybe he'd actually answer a few of them.

Surprisingly, he was the one to start asking questions.

"What happened today?"

She blushed and looked away, her eyes flittering to the lush area rug covering the floor.

"I left to meet up with a friend."

He gave her a flat look that indicated exactly how much credence he gave that particular excuse. He maintained a taciturn silence and she sat back. She was used to him being quiet, but this was different. The air around him was charged, like it'd been on the night he'd taken her from VOSS. He was not pleased and his ire was directed squarely at her.

It was true that she hadn't exactly chosen the best part of town to run off in. At the time she hadn't spared a single thought for what he might imagine had happened to her. With his personal enemies everywhere she would have made an easy target. Suddenly aware of how her disappearance might have looked from his perspective, she felt a twinge of guilt.

"I didn't mean to make you worry," she muttered, keeping her gaze on the floor.

He didn't respond, but the subtle relaxation of his posture implied that he accepted her apology.

"Do you know who's behind the arson at the Café?" she asked, eager to get some answers for herself.

He didn't seem surprised by her question or the suddenness of it.

"I have my theories," he answered without sparing her a glance.

He got to his feet and re-filled his glass with a sizeable amount of bourbon before replacing the lid on the decanter.

"Whoever did it is connected to you somehow, aren't they?"

Silence.

Her eyes followed him to the window. He took up a position in front of it and sipped from his glass, watching the cars 37 stories below.

"That guy who attacked me… You had him killed this morning didn't you?"

Again, silence.

"Do you do that often?" she asked, getting to her feet.

"When it is necessary," he replied matter-of-factly.

She paced across his living room before deciding that she needed a drink of her own. Escaping to the kitchen, she took down a glass from the cupboard with trembling hands and filled it from the tap.

His blasé admission to a contracted killing had left her head reeling. She knew his world was different from hers, but it wasn't until this moment that she understood just _how_ different. His was a world of money, weapons, intimidation and revenge killings. Quiet girls from Gifu who studied English, enjoyed singing K-Pop karaoke and indulged in baking didn't belong.

She turned around to find him behind her, leaning against the opposite counter. Her heart stalled when her eyes met his dark gaze and she quickly looked away. Setting her glass aside, she pulled herself up onto the counter and considered her next question.

"The assault and the fire… Whoever did it was trying to get to you?"

He nodded once. It felt like the floor had suddenly fallen out from under her and she gripped the countertop with trembling hands just to keep herself grounded.

"So everything that's happ-"

She stopped and exhaled a shaky breath before trying again.

"Everything that's happened to me…is because of you?"

She struggled to lift her eyes to meet his. He gave her an even look and she knew the truth. This beautiful, enigmatic stranger, this man who'd saved her from destruction, was the very source of her pain. It felt like a hole had been punched through her stomach. She doubled over, clutching at her chest as she struggled to breathe. Beneath her hand her heart was racing.

"What is _this_? Did you bring me here because you felt guilty?"

He laughed humourlessly and set down his drink.

"You seem to have a very high moral opinion of my intentions."

He crossed the kitchen and braced his hands on either side of her. The breath caught in her throat and she could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath. His words were filled with arrogance but his eyes told a different story.

"Why me?" she whispered, suddenly very aware of how close his body was to hers. He leaned towards her in that subtle way that was so uniquely his, until she could smell the faint scent of expensive cologne clinging to his clothes and feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

His golden eyes held hers and stared straight into her as he answered, "Because I wanted you."

She blinked and a faint choking sound escaped her throat. It took great effort to convince her mouth to open and her sluggish tongue to move. All she could manage in the end was a strangled, "_Why_?"

What possible reason could a man like him have for wanting her? He had everything – wealth, power, and the respect and fear of everyone who knew him. And despite his intimidating presence, his looks were enough to have most women throwing themselves at his feet.

Sex was the obvious answer, but Sesshomaru never dealt in the realm of the obvious. Besides, she was prudent enough to know how she appeared to others – mousey and a bit on the plain side. Had she been a raven haired beauty like the woman standing next to him in the photo on his bookshelf, the woman who was called his wife, she might have understood. But this…?

He didn't want her for sex or he would have taken it already, she was certain of it. It was something more that he wanted from her, but what? She stared up at him, helpless to understand the humourless smile flirting across his lips.

"Because," he answered resolute, "you possess something they don't."

"And what's that?"

His hand skimmed feather light across her collarbone and down the length of her arm, dropping off just past her elbow. Goose bumps rippled along the flesh of her arm and a pleasant shiver jetted down her spine.

Her eyes darted back and forth between his, too afraid to look away for fear of missing the answer in them; her lungs breathed in his scent - it was warm and rich, smelling of Armani and bourbon; even her ears strained, listening to the faint draw of his breath and awaiting an answer.

He closed his eyes and his entire body seemed to sigh. He leaned in again, just close enough for her to feel the change, before opening his eyes. The expression in them was clear, unhindered by the alcohol. The faintest of smiles crossed his lips and then he answered, "Trust."

She echoed the word back to him and her expression lifted in surprise. Of course… The nature of his job meant that he couldn't trust anyone he worked with or who worked for him. Even his wife seemed to be little more than a stranger. The only way a man like him could gain and have trust was to become anonymous.

Anonymous was exactly what he'd been when they'd first met. Names hadn't been important then. In the café he wasn't Sesshomaru Kobayashi – wealthy, powerful and deadly yakuza. There, he'd found the freedom to become someone else - a man who enjoyed quiet moments, Shakespeare and black coffee.

That anonymity was why she'd trusted him. It was why even now, knowing what he was, a part of her _still_ trusted him. She understood now what it was that he needed from her. For all his power and money, for all the people in this city of millions who knew and feared his name, there was only one that he could trust – and that trusted him.

Her eyes blinked wide in surprise and then narrowed with understanding.

_All that because he needed a friend..._

It was so simple it was almost laughable, but she couldn't laugh. Instead tears filled her eyes and she let them fall.

"You selfish, selfish bastard," she whispered to him in defeat. " You ruined my life."

He paused for the space of a few heartbeats before bowing his head and answering just as softly, "I know."

His hands slid away from her towards the edge of the counter and hers moved on their own accord, taking hold of his shirt to stop his retreat.

"Wait…"

The resistance in his shirt slackened and he faced her again. She somehow found the strength to lift her eyes to meet his. Those great pools of endless amber could look so cold and hard, like the stone they took their colour from, but tonight they were alive, shifting about like molten rock. She saw regret in them, and pain. However selfish his designs he'd never meant for her to be hurt.

In a way, she was relieved to discover his fallibility. It meant that he was no longer outside her reach. This enigmatic stranger had finally become a man she could understand. His motives weren't so different from her own.

"You might have noticed," she confessed haltingly with a shy smile, "that I'm a little short on friends too."

The back of his fingers ghosted across her cheek and then softly down her neck before settling around her waist. His grip was light but certain and she felt the heat of his touch permeate through her clothes.

He drew close and the warmth of his breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine. Sesshomaru was a man who took what he wanted but with her it was different. It'd always been different. He hesitated, waited with his lips lingering just outside her reach, until she welcomed him with a subtle nod.

In the next breath his warm mouth was atop hers, coaxing it open. She sighed into him, aware of his other hand settling around her waist and pulling her to the counter's edge. Her teeth nibbled at his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth, and a soft groan sounded in the back of his throat.

The alcohol on his tongue flooded her mouth with its heavy, potent flavour, but it wasn't unpleasant. Neither was the gentle way his hands moved to cup her face, or the increasing need behind his kiss. It sent a rush down her spine that spread warmth through her limbs like a shot of tequila. It settled into a warm ball in the pit of her stomach that radiated stronger with each passing minute.

While his tongue explored her mouth, his hands slid down the length of her thighs leaving a trail of fire against her bare skin. He hooked her legs around his waist and she held tight as he picked her up off the counter and carried her to his room. It was obvious where things would lead once they were there, but not a single part of her wanted to stop. The two loneliest people in Tokyo had somehow found each other. Perhaps they both knew it would never last, but for now – just for now – they could pretend they weren't so lonely anymore.

* * *

Selected Listening:

Sleeperstar – I Was Wrong

Stateless – Bloodstream

_Author's Note: _ I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It was a long one at nearly 5, 600 words but I think it was worth it. Just wanted to extend a very special thank you to **landofthekwt**, **LoVe23** and **angelbabe17** for leaving me such kind reviews on the last chapter. Your support means everything to me :)

Happy reading everyone!

Cheers,

Langus


	35. Staring Down the Rubicon

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Five –

"Staring Down the Rubicon"

He didn't snore.

It was a strange first thought to have, given what had happened between them the night before, but in her haze of sleep it seemed to be the only significant thing her mind could focus on.

Rin opened her eyes and turned her head to look at the man sleeping next to her. In the soft morning light he was more beautiful than she'd ever seen him and for a long while she simply studied the angles of his face. She was tempted to reach out and touch him, to smooth back the hair from his brow, but her hands stayed where they were. She wouldn't risk waking him and ruining this moment.

There was no telling what today would bring. Despite the clarity in his gaze when he'd admitted his true intentions to her the previous night, she couldn't ignore that he'd been drunk. He might regret what had happened between them. He might even want her to leave.

She wasn't prepared for what she would find in those endless amber eyes this morning and so she lay there unmoving, scarcely breathing, and not daring to wake him.

A sudden thought struck her then – how many people had ever seen him like this? The heavy way his arm rested across her stomach told her just how far his guard was down. There was no gun under his pillow, either. Perhaps he'd stashed it elsewhere, but it no longer had a home in his bed. His breaths were deep and even, rhythmic in their execution - he was fast asleep. The man who trusted no one seemed to have no reservations about leaving himself vulnerable in her presence.

_Trust._

His word from the previous night echoed back to her and a faint smile lit her lips. Out of all the millions of people in Tokyo, he'd chosen her – plain, simple Rin. She couldn't understand it and didn't even want to attempt to try. For now, it was enough to know that there were probably only two people who had ever seen him this way – his wife and herself.

It was easy to forget sometimes that he was married. A part of her wondered if the woman actually existed. Perhaps it'd been a marriage of convenience. He certainly didn't seem to love her, whoever she was. She wondered if he ever had. His complete indifference when talking about her suggested not.

She wasn't normally the type of girl to sleep with a married man, but she found it hard to feel any guilt for what they'd done. What they'd had last night was real. It'd been something tangible and right in every way that something can be right. His wife was just another bit player in the great cast of people who filled his life when she wasn't around. She felt no jealousy towards the woman, but maybe pitied her a little. She knew how cold Sesshomaru could be and could only imagine how he treated a woman like that.

Her thoughts were still lingering on the mystery of his wife when she heard her phone ring from inside her bag at the front door. Anxious that it would wake him, she slid out from under his arm, slipped her dress up over her naked form and tip toed out into the hall. She rummaged as quietly as possible through her bag for her phone and flipped it open.

3 missed calls.

Frowning, she opened her caller ID to see that they'd all been from the same number. A sneaking suspicion told her it had to do with her brother and so she made her way out to the balcony. Careful to shut the door quietly behind her, she sat down on one of the chairs and re-dialed the number.

It rang twice before someone picked up on the other end.

"You called?"

"Ah, yes. Sorry to disturb you so early in the morning, Ms. Takeda. Is this a good time?"

"I suppose."

"We have arranged a time and place for you to meet up with your brother. Tonight at Club Quattro, 7 PM. Is this time acceptable to you?"

"Why doesn't he call me himself," she demanded, suddenly suspicious. "I mean you guys obviously have my number which means he has it. He could have called me at any time to meet up."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line before the speaker came back. His tone was full of understanding and apology.

"Yes, I understand how strange this must seem for you. It is safer if your brother does not have direct contact with you for now. The authorities must be led to believe he is dead. If the police talk to you, you can say truthfully that you have had no contact with him."

"Why does he have to be dead? And why would the police contact me? What's going on?"

"You remember the story, don't you? About what happened to your brother in North Korea?"

Rin nodded, despite the person on the other end not being able to see her. After a moment of silence she cleared her throat and muttered, "Yeah, I remember."

"That story was a half truth. Your brother was involved in the student riots but he was not killed. He was taken as a political prisoner. He has since managed to escape but remains a fugitive of the North Korean state. You understand how troublesome it could be if he were to be discovered here, especially with relations between Japan and North Korea being what they are. This secrecy is frustrating for you, but it is absolutely necessary. The last thing he wants is to cause unnecessary trouble in your life."

A frown creased her brow as she considered the story. It was plausible. She didn't like it a single bit, but she had to admit that there was at least some possibility it was true. If anything, it solidified all the more her need to involve Sesshomaru. After what'd happened at the café, she didn't feel safe trusting anyone at their word.

"Where did you say this club was?"

"It's Club Quattro in Shibuya. Please be there by 7 PM. He will meet you inside. If any problems arise, we will call you from this number."

She nodded again before answering with a distracted, "Okay, I'll be there."

The person on the other end of the line hung up and she slowly pulled her phone away from her ear. She snapped it closed just as the patio door opened behind her. Sesshomaru was standing in the doorway holding a cup of tea out to her. Forcing a smile, she accepted it from his hands and followed him inside.

His eyes followed her to the couch and she hesitated before curling up atop the leather. With his gaze still on her, she stared down into her mug to gather her thoughts and then asked, "Did you know I had a brother?"

His brow lifted in surprise and he slowly sat down in the chair across from her.

"I did not."

She took a small sip of tea and felt its warmth spread encouragingly through her limbs.

"When I was nine he went to Korea for University and never came home. The official word was that he was killed by the army during some student riots in North Korea but you know how these things go."

Sesshomaru sat back with his coffee and rested his bare feet atop the ottoman. He remained patiently silent, giving her a chance to get her story out.

"Yesterday I got a call just after I…left," she continued with a sheepish look.

"What sort of call?"

"It was from a private investigator, someone I've never talked to before. He said that my brother was alive and wanted to meet up with me."

She looked up to gauge his reaction and saw a deep frown line form between his brows.

"He called again this morning and asked me to meet tonight. I demanded to speak with my brother but they gave me some long reason as to why it wasn't a good idea, mainly having to do with my safety. The trouble is the story they gave me makes sense. It could be true. And if it _is_ true and my brother is alive then…"

Here she trailed off and ended with a light shrug of her shoulders. Sesshomaru sat in silence for a long while, appearing to be deep in thought. Eventually he sat forward and set his cup down on the floor.

"Give me time to look into this. I'll need a day."

Her heart began to race and she offered him a timid smile. She hadn't expected him to want to help her so easily. Talking with him about it had been the right thing to do - she could feel it now with every bone in her body.

"Thank you," she breathed. He nodded once and she felt relief course through her. Maybe things would turn out alright after all. At least now she had hope. It gave a certain lightness to her steps when she eventually slipped off the couch and headed into the kitchen to wash out her tea cup.

When she was finished, she turned round to find him behind her. He set his cup atop the counter and quickly forgot about it. With his gaze focused on her eyes, he brushed a few wayward strands of hair away from her face.

"Promise you will not meet with him until I've had a chance to look into this."

He understood exactly what he was asking of her and yet demanded obedience anyway. She quickly looked away, knowing that it would be impossible to lie to him. This was her brother! What if it was the last chance she might ever have to see him? What if the story were true? What if-

"Rin."

His hand tenderly cupped the underside of her jaw and lifted her chin until she met his gaze. She could hear the censure and hint of frustration in his tone and felt a knot of guilt form in the pit of her stomach. Last night had been all about trust. Could she betray his now after they'd both come so far? All he was asking for was a day.

She exhaled a soft sigh of defeat and nodded, "Okay, I promise."

He pulled her close and pressed a soft kiss into her hair in a remarkably casual gesture that momentarily caught her off guard. Then, without another word, he released her and headed for the shower. She was left staring after him wondering about the strength of her own willpower. If it came down to it, would she sacrifice his trust to assuage her curiosity? Even if it meant that she might lose him forever?

The dull hiss of the shower coming to life in the bathroom reached the kitchen. It wasn't nearly loud enough to fill the void he'd left behind or quiet her conflicting thoughts. Terrified of the silence, she grabbed his empty cup off the counter and spent the next 10 minutes washing it in the sink.

xXx

Detective Takahashi pushed open the door to the forensics lab and tossed his coat atop the first workbench he saw. Jeff, the American lab technician, looked up from his computer briefly and shook his head.

"You look like shit," he intoned before turning back to his computer.

"Didn't get much sleep," the Detective muttered, taking a long sip from his coffee.

His interest piqued, Jeff spun around in his chair and lifted a curious brow, "I heard you got back with Kagome. Things are working out then, I guess?"

Inuyasha shrugged. He didn't make a habit of talking about his personal life at work. Enough of it was out in the open as it was. Some of the guys liked to brag about their conquests, but it'd never been his style. Instead he deflected the question with one of his own.

"You get any results on my shank from yesterday?" he asked, gesturing to the computer.

Jeff gave him a flat look, "You know it doesn't work that fast. I've got a pile of evidence ahead of it that I need to get to first. It's gonna be at least a week."

Inuyasha exhaled heavily through his nose. He'd figured that would be the case. At best he'd been hoping for a miracle. Undaunted, he glanced around the lab and saw that it was empty but for the two of them. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice and handed the lab tech a piece of paper.

"What's this?" he asked, staring down at the two phone numbers written on it.

"You remember when I told you to keep the print we got off that bullet under wraps? Well, I've got some new evidence now and I'm about ready to shake him down. This is his cell number. I need you to do a records dump and show me every call that's been made or received to that phone."

The technician nodded uncertainly and glanced warily around the lab. Seeing that it was empty, he exhaled a soft sigh of relief.

"Okay, fine. What about this other number?"

"It's the phone of a witness, a girl named Rin Takeda. I think someone she knows might be connected to my arson case. That connection's gonna get her in a lot of trouble. I need a dump of her phone too."

Jeff pulled back and lifted a brow sceptically, "You got a warrant?"

Inuyasha pointedly glanced away and took a long sip of his coffee.

"No way. Absolutely not!," Jeff hissed. "I don't mind helping you with the first one but don't even get me started on how many rules this is breaking. I'm not jeopardizing my career for this. You gotta be crazy! At the very least I'll need a warrant!"

Inuyasha tried every trick he knew to calm his temper. It wasn't easy but he managed to get his voice under control before he tried to barter with him again.

"We can worry about the warrant later. This girl might be in trouble…"

"Yeah, and she'll sue if she finds out we went digging through her phone records without any probable cause!" Jeff interjected, raising his voice.

Inuyasha scowled and motioned with his hand for him to keep it down. They both sent a cautious glance around the room, but they were still its only occupants.

"She can't sue the department if she's dead," the Detective reasoned with every measure of calm. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't life or death."

Jeff sighed heavily and frowned. He hated being put in this kind of position. The Detective was already asking a lot of him, what with hiding evidence and doing phone dumps, and now this? He shook his head, unable to believe that he was about to agree to such a scheme. It was utterly reckless and it would definitely result in disciplinary action but if he didn't do it and some innocent girl died, he'd never be able to live with himself.

"Alright, fine," he groused, looking none too pleased. "It'll be ready by 5 or 6, depending on how busy we get down here today."

Offering him a grim smile, Inuyasha clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thanks. You're a good man, Jeff."

The technician rolled his eyes and shrugged his hand off, "Yeah, whatever. I'll remember that when they fire me for breaking every rule in the book."

The Detective smirked and decided then that he rather liked the kid. He'd do whatever he could to minimize the damage to his career, even if it meant lying and saying he'd commandeered the lab equipment and run the tests himself. No sense dragging anyone else down with him. If this was going to turn out as bad as he thought it would, he'd need to minimize the fallout any way possible.

Taking another long sip of his coffee, he glanced down at his watch and noted the time. It was 20 minutes before his scheduled meeting with the inmate from the previous day. He was curious and anxious all at the same time. He just wanted to get the damn thing over with and finally get some answers.

Bidding the tech goodbye with a slap on the back, he snatched his coat up off the table and headed out the door.

xXx

The hallway leading to Interrogation Room 6 was empty but for a lone guard standing watch outside the door. Detective Takahashi sauntered up to the one-way mirror and inspected the man sitting inside.

Masato Yamada, career criminal. His corrections file rested heavily in his hand, its contents proving that he hadn't been posturing during their meeting the previous day. Yamada was in it for the long haul - assault, burglary, grand theft auto and weapons offences, along with about a dozen other charges which would keep him behind bars for the majority of his natural life. He had zero chance of early parole, which made the Detective all the more curious as to why he was willing to put his ass on the line for no gain. What was Yamada playing at?

"How's he been?" he casually asked the guard.

The uniform glanced over his shoulder and shrugged, "No problems. Pretty quiet, I guess."

"Look, I know protocol says you've gotta watch my back, but I want a few minutes alone with this guy. Think you could trouble yourself to head to the little boys room for about five minutes?"

The guard lifted an eyebrow and looked hesitant.

"I dunno…"

"He's not gonna talk to me if he thinks we've got eyes and ears on this room. I'm askin' for a favour."

The guard pursed his lips and eventually let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"Alright, five minutes. You better not do anything that's gonna get my ass fired. I've got a baby on the way."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I've got you covered."

He gave the man a grim smile and watched him retreat down the hall. He waited until he'd rounded the corner before opening the door to the interrogation room and stepping inside.

"So, how's solitary been treating you?" he asked, pushing the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe.

Yamada shrugged and gave him an even look, "Not so bad. Means I won't be dyin' anytime soon. They've got cameras in those rooms now."

Takahashi grunted and took a seat at the table with his back to the door. He glanced up at the man across from him and studied the fat white scar that cut a jagged line from his brow to his chin. He wondered what had caused it and then decided on a broken bottle. Even without the scar, the poor bastard had a face that only a mother could love.

Offering Yamada a sober look he said, "The guard's gone so it's just you and me in here. I wanna hear what you've gotta say."

Yamada scoffed and sat back in his chair, "You'd be the first."

"I know you've got no reason to trust me," Takahashi pressed, "but hell, I figure we can help each other so why not? I wanna find the asshole who did this. A dirty cop makes us all look bad and I'm fuckin' sick of it."

The inmate leaned forward and folded his hands atop the table. The metal links of his shackles clanked noisily against the wood and he gestured to the Detective's clipboard.

"You got a pen and paper? I ain't sayin' none of this aloud."

Wordlessly, Inuyasha handed him a pen and paper and waited. The man began sketching chaotic lines across the page. After about a minute it slowly came together into a portrait - the face of Akita's killer. With an abruptly scribbled flourish, Yamada set down the pencil and turned the page around.

Inuyasha stared down that the profile gazing up at him from the paper and felt his stomach sink. He wasn't surprised, but a part of him had hoped he was wrong. If this guy's ID was credible, that meant the bastard was behind more than just one murder – he was behind all of them.

Careful to keep his expression controlled, he folded up the paper and tucked it into his shirt.

"You're sure?"

Yamada gave him a single nod and the expression in his eyes told the rest.

"Alright, what do you want? I'm gonna keep up my end of the bargain."

"What I want, is for you to do exactly what you said you were gonna do – find the prick and while you're at it make sure he spends some time in the general population. I know more than a few of us want to have a personal chat with him, if you catch my drift."

"Yeah, I hear you loud and clear. You sure you don't want anything else?"

"Keep the wolves off my back and I'm good as gold, Detective."

Inuyasha smirked and got up from the table, "You don't gotta worry about that."

He left Yamada with a meaningful nod and opened the door. The glorified hall monitor was just returning to his post and looked relieved to see him exiting the room in one piece.

"You get what you needed?" he asked, tilting his head towards the one-way mirror.

"Yeah, thanks. I owe you one."

The guard nodded and opened the door.

"Alright, let's go," he called out over his shoulder. The scrape of a chair and the sound of metal chains clinking against one another followed.

Inuyasha didn't linger around long enough to watch Yamada be hauled back to solitary. He'd gotten what he needed and it'd landed him right in the middle of a giant, steaming shit heap. Things were gonna get ugly and he didn't have a goddamn clue how to go about sorting it all out. He knew what protocol dictated but this wasn't one for the rulebook.

"You dumb sonofabitch," he muttered under his breath as he headed outside for a much needed smoke, "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

* * *

_Author's Note: _This chapter was difficult to write. There is no one particular reason for it, just that it was. Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoyed it all the same!

I want to take a second to extend a very special thank you to **landofthekwt** for nominating LSR in the **IYFG Awards** in the _Best Inu/Kag Romance_ category. I truly appreciate the love this fic gets. You guys have no idea :)

On that note, I'm really looking forward to the next few chapters. Some serious shit goes down so please stay tuned!

Cheers,

Langus


	36. Fool Me Once

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Six –

Fool Me Once…

Kagome hadn't stepped foot in Furukawa-san's office since the day she was hired at VOSS and it still felt too soon. After speaking with some of the girls, she'd taken her time going through his drawers looking for anything she could use. It hadn't taken long to find what she needed. Furukawa-san had enjoyed a long and prolific career being a repugnant waste of space.

Amidst all her searching, she hadn't found a single shred of evidence to tie him to Rin. Apparently he'd learn some tricks along the way and knew how to make a person disappear. Whatever employee records had existed of her were gone, either burned or shredded. Whatever money had been handed over had disappeared without a trace, most likely pocketed by Furukawa-san himself.

He'd done a good job cleaning up after himself, but she was prepared to be relentless. What was a little extortion when it came to someone she cared about?

Sighing out of boredom, she sat back in his high backed leather chair and put her stiletto clad feet up on his desk. He'd been gone for far too long. The thought of spending any longer sitting in his chair or smelling the reek of his cheap cologne on the air was hardly appealing. She just wanted to get it over with.

As luck would have it, she didn't have to wait much longer. Hearing footsteps approaching, she adjusted her bra, flipped her hair back over her shoulder and put on her best flirtatious smile. Furukawa-san pushed the door to his office open and paused to take in the scene before him. His eyes travelled greedily over her long legs, tight outfit and ample cleavage. Her mouth pouted as she twirled a loose curl around her finger.

"Ahhh…Hitomi," he purred, using her fake name. "This is unexpected. I was starting to think you'd turned cold."

Kagome arched an eyebrow at the insinuation but kept a sly smile on her lips. Slowly, she lowered her feet to the floor and sashayed around his desk.

"You've just been too busy to notice me," she pouted, tugging at his tie. Her playful anger worked exactly as expected. A leer crept across his face and he slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her in close.

"Come on now, don't be like that. How can I make it up to you?"

"Well, there is one way," she teased, pulling him toward his chair. He went willingly, following behind her like a lost puppy. His hand wandered to her ass and grabbed a firm handful before she had the chance to swat it away.

"Take a seat," she ordered, nodding at his chair. He obliged, loosening his tie as he did so.

"I always knew you'd come around," he breathed, grinning at her in expectation. "You look clean but you're really just a kinky bitch on the inside. That's why I hired you."

"Good call," she purred, easing herself onto his lap. "You and I are overdue for some fun."

Giving him a saucy wink, she pulled out a set of handcuffs and coyly cuffed his left hand to the arm of the chair.

"I hope you have a key for these," he joked, jingling the chain.

"I'm sure I have it _somewhere_," she replied, pulling his face into her cleavage. While he was otherwise distracted, she cuffed his right hand as well, leaving him momentarily defenceless.

"What now?" he gasped, finally coming up for some air.

"Now you tell me what happened to Rin."

The way Furukawa-san's face contorted at her words was almost comical. He looked torn between fury, confusion and disappointment. Once he put two and two together, he settled on anger and jerked at the cuffs locking his wrists to the chair.

"What game are you playing at?" he demanded.

She eased herself onto his desktop and pushed him back against the chair with the toe of her shoe.

"What happened to Rin?" she repeated, her tone eerily calm.

"That's none of your goddamn business. Girls come and go, who gives a shit?"

She'd gotten to him. She could see it in the slow reddening of his face and the way he kept checking the door, like he expected the Devil himself to walk in. Eventually she caught his eye and stared him down, smiling victoriously when he looked away like the coward he was.

"Something was different this time, though, wasn't it? Someone bought her and I want to know who."

"You can go to Hell," he swore.

"I think it'd be in your best interests to co-operate," she threatened evenly, lowering her voice.

Furukawa-san gathered himself together and lifted his chin defiantly, "I doubt it."

Smiling wickedly, Kagome hopped off his desk and made her way to the door. She made a point to lock it before turning back to face her victim. He glared at her, looking rather foolish half-undressed and chained to his own chair like a dog.

"I've learned a lot of things about you Furukawa-san," she teased, taking a seat across from him. Easing back, she put her feet up on his desk and fixed him with a cool look.

"It's funny what you can learn just by asking around. My favourite story is about that 13 year-old girl you raped and got pregnant. I hear she had a boy. Congratulations."

"Like anyone will believe the word of a whore," he sneered, obviously confident despite her threats.

Kagome smiled indulgently and nodded in agreement. "You're right, of course. What's the word of a whore against a man of your _calibre_?" Her sarcasm was thick and judging by the glower that took over Furukawa-san's features she'd thoroughly bruised his pride.

"I suppose it's only fair I introduce myself properly. My name's Kagome Higurashi, investigative reporter for the _Asahi Shimbun_. I think maybe you've heard of it?"

The colour drained from Furukawa-san's face. Of course he'd heard of it. It was only the most widely circulated daily paper in Tokyo. He looked like he was going to be sick. In the span of five minutes she'd stripped him of his vigour, leaving behind a sallow-faced shell of a man. Kagome held his gaze as she put her portable tape recorder atop the table. Inside the wheels whirred softly, ready to record every word out of his mouth.

"Now," she purred, her eyes flashing dangerously, "Let's start from the beginning."

xXx

He was late.

The fingers of her hand were numb from gripping her cell phone. Nervous, she checked the time and shifted her weight to her other foot. She opened the note that was balled tightly in her left hand and re-read the time and location in the red and green glow of the stage lights.

_Club Quattro._

_7 PM. _

She was in the right place.

Blowing out a sigh, she shoved the note into the back pocket of her jeans and tried to focus on the band on stage. They were some indie group she'd never heard of, but their music was good – catchy hooks with soul and a hard edge.

Closing her eyes, she let the hypnotic beat of their electronic mix wash over her and felt the bass echo in her chest. It'd been a long time since she'd seen a band play live. She'd almost forgotten how much she loved the way her body felt the music – the pounding rhythms, the beat that forced her to move and sway in time. It was easy to lose yourself in it.

...But not tonight. Tonight her mind was far too distracted to appreciate what was in front of her. The waiting was torture. Anxious, she flipped open her phone to check for any missed calls. Nothing.

"He's going to come. You just have to trust that he's going to come," she muttered quietly, closing her eyes as she closed her phone.

The music was good for one thing at least. It temporarily distracted her from dwelling on Sesshomaru. She kept telling herself that there was nothing wrong with what she'd done. She wasn't a prisoner and he wasn't her master. She had every right to leave his apartment and venture out on her own whenever she felt like it.

This was all true of course, but it didn't dispel the sense of guilt that was festering inside of her. The thought of doing anything to damage the fragile relationship they shared made her heart turn over in her chest. Whatever bad he'd done, she still trusted him. However inexplicable it was, she cared for him, maybe even loved him. But tonight she'd gone against her word and sneaked out of his apartment, leaving only a hastily scribbled apology note behind. Tonight she'd shown him that she was the one who couldn't be trusted, that she was the one who was dishonest.

She bit her lip and swallowed down the tightness in her throat. If she knew anything about him by now, merciful and benevolent were not words one would use to describe his character. He was proud and stubborn. He didn't bestow his forgiveness or good opinion easily and knowing that only made her feel worse.

They were such different creatures. What they had could only be described as unique, and here she was throwing it away for some thin shred of hope that the impossible might be possible. She didn't deserve his forgiveness or his mercy. She didn't deserve anything from him after this.

The sudden touch of a hand against her shoulder made her jump but it only took one glance at the drunken man stumbling away from her for disappointment to set in. How much longer would he make her wait?

She tried to remember exactly what he'd looked like the last time she'd seen him – lanky, tall, and smiling. He'd been 18 then, just out of high school and eager to start at his new university. She'd just turned nine and was spoiled, stubborn and pouty. It made her cringe to think of what her brother's last memory of her must be.

"Are you sure you have to go?" she'd pouted, looking up at his smiling face from somewhere around his waist.

He'd laughed and tousled her hair. "Yes, but I'll be back soon, I promise!"

"Not till New Years!" she'd shouted up at him, then crossed her arms and pouted a little harder.

With a soft sigh, he knelt down on one knee and took her by the shoulders. "Rin, I know this is hard but New Years will come before you know it. If you're good I promise to bring you back something real nice."

Instead of thanking him and giving him a big hug goodbye, she'd turned her back and sulked until he got into the waiting taxi and disappeared down the street. She never saw him again. Three months later a telegram arrived at the house saying her brother had been killed in a student riot in Korea.

Not a day went by where she didn't regret not turning around in that last moment to hold him tight. If she could do it over again there were so many things she'd do differently, but when you're nine you never think about those sorts of things.

The emptiness his absence left in her heart had become manageable over time, but it was always there. Nothing could replace him. And then out of the blue she'd received that call -

_Your brother is alive. He's been searching for you. He wants to meet._

It was like she'd suddenly been transported into a dream she'd never dared dream. She'd been sceptical at first, as anyone would, but the man who spoke to her over the phone knew too much. For the first time in 10 years she dared to hope.

The sudden cool touch of a hand against hers made her inhale sharply. This was it. She emptied her lungs slowly and steeled her nerves before turning around. How different would her brother be, as a man of 28? Would he still have that same boyish grin? Would he still be lanky and a bit clumsy when he walked?

Holding her breath, she slowly turned around.

The man standing behind her wasn't what she'd expected. His skin was tanned dark and there was an attractive line of stubble growing along his jaw. She eagerly searched his face for signs of the pale, lanky brother she remembered. After all, people could change a lot in a decade.

His nose looked different and his mouth didn't possess the boyish grin she remembered. It was only once she looked into his eyes, expecting to see a warm shade of chestnut brown that matched her own and saw indigo instead, that she knew for certain. Those eyes weren't the eyes of her brother. This man, whoever he was, wasn't him. She instantly regretted not listening to Sesshomaru's warning.

"Come on," he mouthed over the music and tilted his head towards the door. She nodded and slipped her jacket over her shoulders before following him out to the elevators. He took her down to the street level and made his way over to a motorcycle. She stopped a few paces away and eyed it dubiously.

"Where is he?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She was tired of the run around and more than tired of this cat and mouse game they seemed to be playing with her. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome tossed a motorcycle helmet at her and she caught it in time.

"Plans have changed."

"I'm not going," she announced, lifting her chin defiantly.

The man in front of her shrugged and eased himself onto the bike.

"Suit yourself. I was given instructions to take you to where he is. If you don't wanna go that's your choice. I'll let him know when I get there."

Dismissing her, the man pulled his own jet black motorcycle helmet over his head and put his keys in the ignition. The bike roared to life and Rin felt her fingers press into the hard shell of the helmet in her hands.

Her instincts were telling her no, but her heart was screaming yes. What if this was her last opportunity to see her brother? She was so quick to doubt, but what if they were telling the truth? The lure of a reunion with her brother was too attractive to ignore. Uttering a frustrated groan, she shoved the helmet onto her head and walked over to the bike.

"You sure?" its helmeted rider shouted at her above the noise from the engine.

Face set in determination, she nodded and hopped onto the bike behind him. Her arms wrapped instinctively around his waist and held tighter when the bike jerked forward onto the road.

"Hold on tight!" he warned, and she didn't have to be told twice.

With her arms wrapped suffocatingly tight around the driver's midsection, she watched the cars and neon lights passing them by. And then, ever so slowly, they began to fade, along with the busy Tokyo streets, until it was just them, the night sky, and the roar of the engine beneath them.

xXx

His motorcycle came to a stop at the edge of a forest. It'd been a while since they'd been on any sort of city road and her anxiety had only grown stronger with each passing minute. Where was he taking her? Her gut was screaming danger, but what could she do? Once she'd climbed aboard the back of his motorcycle she was in it for the long haul.

He'd driven maybe thirty minutes through the urban center before venturing outside the city limits. She'd tried to memorize street names and intersections and map all the turns in her head, but after the first two dozen she'd lost count. Once he began jetting across swaying rice fields she'd given up completely. At the moment she had absolutely no idea where they were, not a clue how to get back and something told her that was exactly what he wanted.

"What are we doing here?" she asked the minute she'd pulled off her helmet. She tossed it at him, hard, and he caught it easily before setting it down atop his bike. He moved more slowly, easing off his helmet and locking up his bike.

Frustrated, she paced a few steps back and forth. Every warning instinct inside of her had been set off. This was wrong. This was so far beyond reckless and dangerous. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep down a panicked sob and considered her options. Even if she ran now, she had nowhere to go.

Thinking that she might be able to bluff her way to freedom she turned on him and said, "I'll have people looking for me if I'm not back soon."

She didn't want to dwell on the unsettling feeling that turned her stomach at the thought of Sesshomaru. _Would_ he come for her? It didn't seem likely after tonight.

"It's only a matter of time," she added, lifting her chin defiantly.

The man before her looked bemused by her assessment. He smiled just a little and then discretely moved his jacket to the side, revealing the handgun holstered at his hip. Her mouth fell open and she took a shaky step backward.

"What-?"

Her mind was reeling, desperately trying to fit the pieces together. Who the hell was this guy?

"I need you to come with me," he said calmly, taking a step closer.

She swallowed hard. Her eyes were glued to his gun as he slowly drew it out, completely blind to the man behind it or anything else. The loud click of the trigger being cocked sounded around them and her body froze in place.

He motioned towards a path to her right, through the trees.

"Turn around and start walking down that path."

Too stunned to argue, she obediently followed his commands. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped her phone in the dirt, losing her only connection to the outside world.

"Wh-where are we going?" she managed, her voice tight.

"Just keep walking."

With the feeling of his gun pressed against her spine, she did as she was told. They were only ten paces down the path before her eyes were so blurred with tears she couldn't see. It was probably for the best anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to know where he was taking her.

They walked for maybe 15 minutes before they reached a clearing. It could have been longer, but she had no concept of time passing. She only knew that each minute felt longer than the last. There were so many things running through her mind but it all kept coming back to Sesshomaru. Why hadn't she listened to him?

If she made it out of this alive there were so many things she needed to say to him – starting with "I'm sorry."

The clearing was empty but for a car. His car, she assumed, and quickly memorized the license plate. Not surprisingly, he led her over to it and opened the trunk. The inside was empty and covered in sheets of thick plastic. She'd seen scenes like this before – bloody murders made easier to clean up with the help of plastic sheeting.

Instinctively, she took a step away from the car, determined to run – gun or no gun. The sudden grip of his hand around her arm was like iron. He dragged her back to the car despite her meek efforts to move in the opposite direction.

"Why are you doing this?" she pleaded, digging her heels into the soft earth. He pulled her the rest of the way to the trunk with little trouble and put the gun to her head.

"Get in."

She stared down into the darkened space, her body unwilling to move one inch closer to death.

"Don't make this any harder on yourself," he warned.

Her eyes lifted and met his defiantly. Holding his gaze, she said with as much certainty as she could, "He will come for me."

Her world went dark after that. He was so fast, she didn't even see it coming.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Thank you for your patience :) I hope the wait was worth it!

I want to extend a very special thank you to LuxKen27, landofthekwt, Joyouki, The Forgotten Child, MomoLaFey, KiraraKitty08, whoojuhooaglo, KatLady13 and LoVe23 for your kind words and reviews. I enjoyed reading every single one. Thank you for taking the time to write :)

Thanks to my lovely readers, this fic tied for 2nd place in the Feudal Association Awards for Best Inuyasha/Kagome Fiction!

Please stay tuned for more! What will happen to Rin? Who is after her and will Sesshomaru be there to rescue her? Will Kagome be successful in getting information out of Furukawa-san? All will be revealed next chapter. Coming to a computer screen near you very soon!

Selected Listening

toe – music for you (the Japanese group Rin is listening to at Club Quattro)

Kid Cudi – Solo Dolo (for atmosphere)


	37. The Hornet's Nest

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Seven -

The Hornet's Nest

The air inside the club was heavy, filled with hushed tones and the fragrant scent of cigar smoke. A solemn game of cards was unfolding at one of the corner tables, gamblers doing what they do best. Behind him, a group of three newly minted members of Inagawa-kai were sizing him up. He listened to the anxious energy of their whispered conversation as they weighed their options, daring each other to approach him first. He dismissed them without another thought and turned his attention to the glass of whiskey in his hands.

Tonight he'd walked into the centre of the hornet's nest in search of answers. He'd found them, or something close to them. It was in their eyes, in the way they'd coolly followed him as he'd walked through the door and to the bar. The power he'd once held over them was gone. Some still feared him, rumours of his callousness making them shake in their pointed-toed leather boots at the thought of approaching him, but the rest… In their eyes he was already defeated.

He'd spent the last quarter of an hour contemplating exactly how he felt about that particular revelation. A year ago he would have done whatever was necessary to restore his hold over them. He'd never shied away from killing before, particularly when it was apt to make a point. But things had changed since then.

There was a saying he'd heard once before – "The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference." They echoed through his thoughts as he twirled his glass of whiskey between his palms. It was because of her that he understood the truth behind them. This bar, its patrons, Inagawa-kai, and the politics of it all, were no longer of any consequence to him. Even the woman slinking towards him, smiling like the cat that ate the canary, could evoke little more than passing interest. Tonight, he felt nothing.

"Hello Sesshomaru," Kagura purred, sliding onto the stool next to him. She crossed one leg over the other and rested her cheek against her hand. "What brings you into the lion's den? A death wish perhaps?"

There was a teasing lilt to her tone, but he knew a threat when he heard one. Kagura had never learned to master the art of subtlety. Tonight, her arrogance had worked to his advantage and led him here. It hadn't taken long to put the pieces together.

When she realized that he was ignoring her, she exhaled an impatient sigh and leaned back against the bar. "And I was going to tell you a secret, too," she lamented with a sly glance in his direction.

"I'm not interested in your games, Kagura."

She studied him in silence for a long moment before her lips twisted into a cruel smile. "That girl, what is she to you?"

He finished what remained of his drink and pushed the empty glass towards the end of the bar. He had no reason to stay. With a single look he'd found his answer. Kagura would be dealt with in due time. Beyond that, he had little interest in hearing anything else she had to say.

He stood to leave and her eyes followed him as he slipped his jacket over his shoulders. Her hand retrieved a small GPS unit from her purse and she laid it conspicuously atop the bar. He glanced at it briefly, lifted a bemused brow, and turned for the door.

"If you hurry, Sesshomaru, you might just make it in time."

When his steps paused, she added darkly, "She really is such a stupid creature, that girl of yours. It took no effort at all to lure her out. I thought you of all people would have chosen better."

He glanced back over his shoulder in time to catch her smug look as she held out the GPS device to him. He made no move to take it and watched with satisfaction as the expectation fell from her features.

" You've wasted your time," he stated without feeling.

"Liar," she challenged with a scowl.

He let the insult slide and departed without turning back. Beyond the door, the cool night air enveloped him and he welcomed its chilled embrace.

xXx

Kagome was five blocks from VOSS and headed for her second subway transfer when she finally felt safe enough to pull out her phone. She looked up Inuyasha's new cell phone number in her directory and called it.

It had taken weeks of subtle hints and then finally her showing up with the box and forcing it on him before he accepted that cell phones were a useful and practical way to get through life.

"I don't like people being able to find me whenever they damn well feel like it," he'd groused, eyeing the box like it was full of tax returns.

"What if _I_ need to find you?" she'd pouted, nudging it closer. She could see him waver before finally accepting that he would prefer a way to get in touch with her in the event that an emergency arose.

"I hate talking on the phone," he'd muttered, prying open the lid.

She'd smiled at him sympathetically and programmed her number into his directory.

"Don't worry. I'll only use it for emergencies."

That seemed to appease him somewhat and he tucked the phone into his back pocket before pulling her onto his lap for a quick kiss.

The phone rang twice before he picked it up. She could hear him fumble with it, muttering curses under his breath before putting it up to his ear.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Everything's fine," she promised to the sound of his audible sigh of relief. "I have some information that might interest you."

He grunted in response and she could hear the audible rush of cars passing by his at rapid speeds.

"The man who took Rin, his name is Sesshomaru Kobayashi. Ring any bells?"

There was a drawn out moment of silence on the other end of the line, long enough that she called his name just to be certain the line hadn't gone dead.

"You're sure?" he said finally, sounding eerily calm.

"I'm sure. What is it? Who is this guy?"

"Stay out of trouble 'til I get back."

"Wait, what-"

Her protest was cut off by the intermittent dial tone and she pulled the phone away from her ear with a frustrated 'tch'.

It wasn't like him to be so calm. Dread slowly filled her stomach as she slipped her phone back into her purse. The terror in Furukawa-san's eyes when he'd finally confessed the name of Rin's benefactor had been unmistakable. She'd seen that look before. It was in the hushed tones of those who spoke of Oniguomo when they thought she wasn't listening. At the time she'd allowed herself to be wilfully ignorant, imagining that the adoration showered upon him was well earned and genuine.

She hadn't understood at first that what she saw as adoration was truly fear. They all knew what he was capable of. The hard truth about Oniguiomo had been a difficult lesson for her, and one she almost hadn't learned until it was too late. Was it too late for Rin?

Fear curled tight in her chest and she braced her hand against the tiled subway wall for support. Inuyasha was heading out alone to confront Kobayashi-san. He was putting his life in danger to find out what'd happened to Rin, simply because she'd asked him to.

"What've I done?" she breathed, her voice shaking.

Pulling her phone back out of her purse, she hurriedly re-dialled Inuyasha's number. The operator promptly announced that the user she was calling was unavailable. Struggling to breathe, she closed the phone and felt her knees go weak. When the subway pulled in to the station, she managed to stumble aboard. The doors closed behind her with a hiss and the train jerked into motion, propelling her forward through the darkness.

Her hand held tight to the rail to keep her from falling while every other fibre of her being concentrated on the man she'd sent out to war with nothing but a kiss and a loaded gun.

_Please… Please…_

xXx

Rin opened her eyes with the touch of the soft, cool earth against her cheek. She blinked and listened to the sound of soft scraping, somewhere not too far off. It was difficult to concentrate on much of anything beyond the throbbing ache inside her skull. She tried to stretch her limbs but they had been bound tight – her feet at the ankles and her hands behind her back. She'd been gagged as well, she noticed, and fought down a wave of panic.

Shuffling her body along the dirt, she managed to get enough leverage to push herself into a sitting position. Behind her was the car and she leaned her throbbing head against its cool metal bumper. She'd gotten herself into one hell of a mess. Her gut had told her not to trust them, but she'd gone and done exactly that - blindly, foolishly, following along because she was so desperate to see her brother again that nothing else mattered. Not logic, nor reason, nor the fact that she'd just destroyed whatever trust Sesshomaru had in her. It didn't get much worse than that.

When the scraping stopped, Rin turned her head and searched the darkness around her. Wherever they were, it was quiet. There was no one else around and but for the odd cricket in the grass she heard nothing that could tell where he'd taken her.

The scrape of his boots against the rough earth drew closer and suddenly he was standing in front of her, shovel in hand. She glanced between the tool and the man, trying to piece it all together. Realization hit as he slammed the blade into the earth to keep it upright.

She could see it now, just beyond the edge of the road – a deep depression in the dirt. Her eyes fixed on it as the blood rushed in her ears. He'd been digging a hole – a grave, to be more precise. It was by sheer force of will and the knowledge that she would suffocate that she didn't vomit right then.

Perhaps taking some pity on her, the man untied the gag around her mouth and she pulled in several shaky breaths of cool air.

"Why?"

It was the first question that slipped from her lips and it seemed the most important at the moment. There were so many 'why's running through her head, and she didn't have a single answer to any of them.

Sighing heavily, her captor took a seat next to her in the dirt and rested an arm casually across his knee.

"Can't say for sure," he replied with a shrug. "It's nothing personal. Well it _is_ personal, but it's got nothing to do with me."

"Then why-?"

His features softened with a touch of humour as he glanced over at her. "Why am I doing this? Why are you here? You know, I was just asking myself those same questions."

The conversation dissipated into a thoughtful silence as the night crept in on them. Had the circumstances been different, she might have been able to appreciate the beauty of it. Above their heads the moon was full and bright in the sky, making flashlights unnecessary. And this far away from the city the silence was calming, or rather, it would have been were she not facing imminent demise.

The image of her body slowly decomposing in that hole, forever alone and forgotten, sent a chill shivering across her skin.

"You know…" she began haltingly, "We could both just go home and forget this ever happened…No one would ever have to know."

He sighed and shook his head.

"See? That's your problem. You keep hoping things will be different and that people are really good on the inside. Where has it gotten you?"

His gaze met hers and he held it until she looked away.

"I'd rather live with hope than walk around thinking everyone is like you," she answered bitterly.

He seemed to agree with her assessment and sat in silence for a while until she asked, "Who asked you to do this?"

"Someone you've never met," he promised. "To them, you're nothing more than collateral. This is about punishing him."

"Him?"

"Come now, we both know you're smarter than that," he chastised with a sidelong glance.

Even now, knowing where it'd gotten her, she didn't regret meeting him. She could never regret it. What she regretted was being foolish enough to believe she was invincible, and for being naïve enough to think that she knew better when the truth was she knew nothing about how his world operated. She was learning fast though, practically at light speed, but it was too little too late.

"So what's it going to be? Strangulation? Gun shot? A good old fashioned beating?"

She was trying to make light of her predicament, but listing off all the ways she could possibly die suddenly brought the reality home for her. Swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat, she couldn't help but glance once more over her shoulder at the grave.

"Well, I think it's only fair that you get to pick. Though if I could offer a recommendation? Go for the gun. It's instant, painless and a whole lot less personal."

"Thanks for the tip," she muttered under her breath. "So what's in it for you? Do get off on killing innocent people?"

He laughed out loud and sat back against the trunk of his car.

"The people I kill are rarely innocent. You're a special case."

"I'm honoured," she replied sarcastically.

She went quiet after that, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of all the things she would never have the chance to do. She still had so many dreams. After high school she'd thought to herself that there would be time to do it all and now here she was, facing death and realizing that in the end she'd accomplished nothing. It felt like such a waste.

"Time to go," her captor announced, suddenly hoisting her up with his hands beneath her arms. Once she was on her feet, he cut the ties that bound her legs and retrieved a gun from the waistband of his pants.

Her eyes came to rest on the glock and the rest of the world faded away. She no longer felt the cold of the night or the whisper of the wind against her cheek. Even the pain in her bound arms subsided. In her world all that existed was that gun and it left her paralyzed, unable to move or breathe.

Eventually a rough hand slipped around her arm and pushed her forward. Her feet stumbled, unwilling to cooperate and the grip around her arm tightened to keep her upright. Tears blurred her vision until the ground disappeared and she was walking blindly forward to her final destination.

The journey seemed to take forever, but it couldn't have been more than 20 or 30 paces before he stopped and forced her to her knees. She was thankful for the tears that prevented her from seeing the dark pit in front of her. She couldn't bear to see it and know that she would forever be inside of it.

Each breath she took echoed through her, its rise and fall making her aware that it could be her last. She didn't want it to be. She'd never imagined it would come to this. What she wouldn't give to have her old, boring life back; to have one more chance at normalcy. She'd forget about her brother and this world she'd been shown a glimpse of. She'd even forget about him…

"Enough."

Her breath faltered at the sharp command and she went completely still. There was no mistaking that voice. Behind her, her captor took a step backwards, his boots scuffing the dirt. She dared to look up and through her tears she watched Sesshomaru calmly emerge from the shadows. He came to a stop a dozen paces away, with one hand resting casually in his pocket. His sharp, golden eyes took in the scene before him, flicking coolly from her, to her captor, and finally to the hole she was kneeling next to.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," said the voice behind her, sounding smug. Sesshomaru's gaze reluctantly pulled away and lifted to meet her captor's.

"Now we can finally get started."

* * *

_Author__'__s __Note:_I hadn't intended to end this chapter on a cliffhanger, especially after such a lengthy break, but it was really just way too long to keep all in one piece. I hope you don't mind waiting for the second part of the climax. All will be revealed next chapter so please hold tight! This is really a pivotal part of the story so I wanted to do it right. You guys don't deserve any less.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me so wonderfully through this writing process. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Until next time,

Langus


	38. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Eight -

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

It was quiet at the top of the hill. Detective Takahashi carefully shut the car door behind him and took a moment to survey his surroundings. The moon above was bright enough to light up the dirt road in front of him, making the rocks glitter like gems in the dark. He pulled his gun as he walked and checked his clip – it was nearly full. He'd have at least 10 rounds if he needed them, but every part of him hoped it wouldn't come to that.

His first stop was the car parked off to the side of the road in front of him. It was an onyx coloured import, new and screaming of money. Kobayashi's? It was his style, but he was careful about jumping to conclusions no matter how tempting they might be. If it was Kobayashi's, it answered a lot of questions. Until tonight he hadn't been able to figure how Rin fit into the puzzle. She was a little nobody from Gifu. What did the likes of Inagawa-kai want with her? None of it had made any sense, but Kobayashi was the missing piece

It was no secret that Inagawa-kai and Samiyoshi-kai were rivals. They'd been fighting over the same strip of clubs in Akasaka for almost 20 years. With the death of Naraku he'd been expecting someone to make a move to fill the power vacuum left behind, but he hadn't expected it to be Kagura. Somehow she'd learned about Rin and then used her to draw Sesshomaru out and weaken his hold. He had to commend her for her resourcefulness, even if she'd created one hell of a mess for him to clean up.

But that was assuming the car belonged to Kobayashi. Retrieving the flashlight he'd tucked into his pants, he approached the vehicle with caution. The small yellow beam from his light couldn't penetrate the darkly tinted windows and he held back to consider his options. If there was something about to go down, the last thing he wanted to do was draw unwanted attention to himself; the element of surprise was just about all he had going for him. Without it he was fucked, and so was his case.

Anxious and impatient, he trained his gun on the driver's side door and slowly pulled the handle. Locked.

_Fuck. _

Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he made his way round to the front of the car and aimed his flashlight at the windshield. Empty. Clicking off the flashlight, he tucked it back into his pants and pressed his palm to the hood of the car. It was warm to the touch despite the cool night air. Whoever had driven it there hadn't been gone long.

After a quick check for unwanted guests, he jogged down the narrow tire path that led into the woods. At the first bend he slipped soundlessly off the tracks into the trees and allowed his instincts to take over. His feet picked their way around fallen trees and dead branches while his mind mulled over past regrets and schemes for what lay ahead.

The promise of victory was a hollow one. How many people had died because he'd been too wrapped up in his own bullshit to piece the clues together? Were it not for Jeff's lucky discovery in the forensics lab and a surprisingly cooperative inmate giving him an ID, he'd still be in the dark. How many more victims would have been added to the list in the meantime? He didn't even want to think about it.

Closing this case was supposed to be the pinnacle of his career, the one he could look back on and crow about while reminiscing about the good old days at the local watering hole. That was how it was supposed to go down. Not like this. There wasn't a damn thing worth celebrating about this.

xXx

Sesshomaru Kobayashi was not the type of man who put affection before reason. He kept his distance, never got attached – affection was a weakness he did not possess. It'd gotten him all the things he'd ever wanted in life and it'd been easy 'til now. But as he stood there and looked at her, noting every detail from the tears on her cheeks to the red marks on her wrists from where the rope had chaffed her skin, he found it increasingly difficult to abide by the philosophy to which his loyalty had once been so unshakable.

A rage was building inside of him that was unlike anything he'd felt before. It was raw, visceral and explosive, borne from somewhere deep and guttural that would not be satiated by anything but blood. There were things he wanted to do to the traitor standing before him that would make Rin look at him in horror. But even with all that rage pumping hot-headed adrenaline through his veins, Reason could not be shut out entirely. It was what reminded him that the man standing before him was not easily intimidated, and wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if he made a single wrong move.

"This is over," he stated, carefully reigning in his emotions and strapping them down under a tight net of control. "Let the girl go."

"You might have noticed, but I don't take orders from you anymore," Inokuma replied with a glib smile.

Sesshomaru lifted a brow in challenge. "Greater men than you have made the mistake of believing they held something over me."

"Well, I do have one thing…"

At his words, Inokuma grabbed Rin sharply by the hair and jerked her head back. She cried out, a weak pathetic sound, and Sesshomaru's eyes narrowed. The gun hidden in the small of his back grew heavy and prominent, demanding to be drawn. He resisted the urge, if only just.

"When Kagura said the girl was the key to luring you out, I didn't believe it at first. I've worked for you for years and never seen you give more than a passing interest to any of them. What's so special about this one?"

"How long have you been Kagura's lapdog?" he deflected, keeping his eyes averted from Rin. He had no intention of revealing just how much control Inokuma held over him with Rin at his mercy.

"Long enough," he countered with a knowing look.

"What were your orders?"

"To kill the girl in front of you," he answered with an indifferent shrug. "You've gotta hand it to Kagura - she's one vindictive bitch."

Vindictiveness was only _one_ of Kagura's many unflattering attributes. She was ruthless, power hungry, manipulative and demanding. Kagura was a child in adult form, obsessed with material things and physical perfection. In her world, the words "good enough" held no meaning; there was perfection and there was everyone else. It made her an impressive business associate when it mattered, cut throat and not easily impressed, but a terrible wife.

"So, what'd you do to get her all riled up?" Inokuma pressed him with a curious lift of his brow. "This goes beyond business."

He gestured pointedly at Rin with his gun and Sesshomaru dared to look. The firm grip Inokuma had on her hair pulled her head back, exposing her smooth, white throat to the moonlight. An image of her blood coursing across that white plane gripped him and he was impressed by the beauty of it – blood and milk intermingling, as pure as new fallen snow. That's just how she'd been before she met him – pure, untainted and real.

It wasn't to assuage Inokuma's curiosity that he chose to answer. Of all the people in Japan, she was the only one he needed to answer to. He held her gaze as the next words left his lips, "Filed for a divorce."

Those dark doe eyes of hers widened in surprise and for a moment her breath stilled. He watched the pieces fall into place and saw how the knowledge changed her, how it defeated her. She closed her eyes in resignation and silent tears slipped from beneath her lashes.

Inokuma whistled in mock appreciation, "I guess they don't make domestic disputes like they used to."

Fixing the man in front of him with a cool look he asked, "What happens now?"

"That's up to you," he replied, with a nod in Rin's direction. "I might be willing to make a deal for her."

"A deal?"

The question was rhetorical – he knew where this was headed. What other reason could Inokuma have for taking on Kagura's contract? It wasn't about the money – it never was with him. She'd promised him fame and glory and she'd delivered.

"I've known you to be a man willing to negotiate when it's in your best interests," Inokuma explained shrewdly, his eyes flashing. "I'm merely proposing an exchange – you for the girl."

He wondered for whose benefit it was that Inokuma suggested such a scheme. They'd both been around long enough to know how this was going to end. He hazarded a glance at Rin and braced himself to find false hope shining in her wide brown eyes. Instead he found her staring blankly at the night sky, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She already knew, he realized with a jolt of surprise. She knew what fate awaited her and had accepted it. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, the fact that she'd lost her will to fight or that she believed he would let her die.

Sesshomaru made a show of thinking over Inokuma's offer as he stared out at the city on the horizon. He had no intention of handing himself over, but his options were limited. In every scenario he played out in his mind, Rin wound up with a bullet in her head and that was not a conclusion he was willing to accept. Exhaling a short sigh, he turned his attention to the bastard standing in front of him.

"I suppose bringing in the second in command of Samiyoshi-kai would earn you at least a handful of commendations," he observed cynically.

"And perhaps a promotion, too, if I play my cards right," Inokuma added with a self-satisfied smirk. "So, is that a 'Yes'?"

The man behind her suddenly released her hair and Rin lowered her head. His answer didn't matter, she knew that. He wasn't going to let her live, not after she'd seen and heard all that she had. There was a part of her that was angry, with him, with her, with everyone who'd felt it necessary to insert themselves into her life and do as they pleased. Another part of her felt indignant over the unfairness of it all. She'd never imagined it could turn out this way. But mostly she was disappointed – in herself for being so damn naïve, and in him for being so utterly flawed while wearing a mask of perfection. Closing her eyes, she held her breath and waited for what would inevitably come next.

"Rin."

Her eyes popped open in surprise at the sound of his soft baritone speaking her name. That word had always sounded so childish on the lips others, barely even a name. But the way his voice wrapped around it, it came out sounding like something refined, something she could be proud to call her own. And for the briefest of moments she'd thought she would die without ever hearing him say it again. Relief flooded through her even as she realized how ridiculous and foolish it was to feel that way.

Reluctantly, she turned her head toward him and braced for the mingled expressions of disappointment and annoyance that would harden his mouth into a firm line and narrow his golden eyes. She didn't expect to see apology, certainly not after what she'd done. He offered her a small, apologetic smile and the breath caught in her throat.

"Duck."

Her body moved, blindly obeying before her mind was even aware of his command. A deafening explosion sounded next to her ear and she felt something hot against the side of her face. The first gunshot was followed by another, just as loud and just as close, all in the time it took for her body to hit the ground.

_I've been shot, _she thought as her cheek met soothing touch of the cool, soft dirt.

A small voice inside her head remarked,_ Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?_

She smiled faintly and closed her eyes.

xXx

He'd known for weeks that Kouga was a traitor. Replaying the last few days in his head, he felt a familiar swell of frustration well up inside him. After countless dead end phone calls and long, exhausting nights spent hunched over his desk with a cup of burnt coffee and a highlighter until the wee hours of the morning, he had everything he needed. Bank records, phone records, forensics – it was all there, but something was off.

At first, Kouga'd been smart and covered his tracks. They never would have found him were it not for the partial fingerprint he'd left on that bullet. It wasn't until he started searching, really digging in deep, that he saw just how sloppy he'd gotten.

Kouga would have been diligent about using disposable cell phones for jobs, any idiot, he figured, could do at least that much, but this last job they'd called him on his personal cell. He hadn't even bothered to ditch the phone before bringing the girl here. All it'd taken was a few threats of heads rolling to get the forensics lab to trace the wireless signal and hook him up with a GPS tracking device. And now here he was, scrambling through a forest and preparing to arrest the man who'd once been the closest thing he'd ever had to a partner, or a friend.

Did Kouga want to get caught? The thought occurred to him as he pushed a low hanging branch out of the way. It wasn't like him to make mistakes and he wasn't the sloppy type. Maybe he'd finally had enough and was ready to come clean. Or maybe he'd just become complacent, over-confident in the knowledge that he'd cleaned up his tracks well enough that they'd never be able to pin any of it on him.

This thought rested uneasily in the form of a knot between his shoulder blades. The trees were beginning to thin and Inuyasha soundlessly ducked under the last few branches to reach the edge of the woods.

His vantage point was a little further away than he would've liked, but he could see everything clear enough. Kouga was there, as he knew he would be, face-to-face with Kobayashi. Rin was on her knees next to them, looking terrified. He felt a pang of sympathy for the girl and quickly tucked it into a far corner of his mind. He didn't have time for sentiment, especially not with someone like Sesshomaru Kobayashi to worry about. The guy was a loose cannon; he'd shoot you in the face before you even had the chance to open your mouth.

The moonlight reflected off the back of Kouga's gun, illuminating it as bright as daylight. He aimed it nonchalantly at Rin's head and said something he couldn't hear to Kobayashi. And then his hands were in her hair, jerking her head back, exposing the tear streaks on her cheeks. Inuyasha froze and grit his teeth, fighting every instinct that insisted he intervene. His eyes darted to Kobayashi and he noticed that he hadn't moved so much as a single muscle. If Kouga was attempting to intimidate him, he'd chosen the wrong man.

"Bastard…," he muttered under his breath, with a glare aimed at Kobayashi.

He held back, watching and waiting for the right moment to make his move. The Superintendent had always given him shit for that – acting before knowing what was what. If he was going to nail Kouga's ass to the wall, he couldn't afford any mistakes. His gun began to feel slick against his palms and he hurriedly wiped them down on his pant leg. What the hell were they doing? Having a damn tea party?

He scowled, frustrated by his inability to hear what was being said. The risk of changing positions to get a better vantage point for listening was too great. If he moved now he might be seen, either by Kouga or Kobayashi. If was going to have any advantage to play in this, it was only going to be by keeping himself at Kouga's back. If it came down to it, he'd rather have one gun aiming at him to worry about than two.

The sudden rapid pop of gunfire sent his instincts into high alert.

S_hit! _

He watched wide-eyed as Rin fell, landing face down in the dirt. He hadn't been prepared for Kouga to shoot her. Suddenly everything was moving in fast motion. With the scent of Rin's blood on the air, his feet drew him silently into the clearing where Kouga was facing down the barrel of Kobayashi's gun.

Sesshomaru Kobayashi was not the magnanimous type. Whatever his relationship with Rin was, he didn't imagine he'd let him walk away from putting a bullet in her head without returning the favour in kind. But he hadn't come this far and fought this hard just to let the bastard take the easy way out.

Holding his gun at chest-level and aimed at Kouga's back, he moved closer and exchanged a brief warning glance with Kobayashi.

"Causin' trouble again?" he teased Kouga, making every effort to sound casual in light of the circumstances.

"Mutt face? What the hell are you doing here?"

He shrugged lightly, "I could ask you the same thing."

He turned his attention to Kobayashi, his eyes drifted thoughtfully over the well dressed man with his gun aimed at Kouga's face.

"And you must be Sesshomaru Kobayashi."

The man's cold amber eyes narrowed fractionally in response. A faint smile lifted one corner of Inuyasha's mouth as he found humour in the irony.

"So, you do exist. Never imagined I'd find myself on your side of anything, but stranger things have happened I guess."

Kobayashi cast a sharp glance between him and Kouga, as though he were trying to make up his mind over who to shoot first. Inuyasha realized it was time to make his next move, before the bastard got trigger happy, and slowly circled around until he was between Kouga and Rin. Kouga hazarded a glance and lifted a brow at the realization that there were now two guns drawn on him instead of one.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, trying to keep one eye and his gun on Kobayashi while sending a glare in Inuyasha's direction.

"What should've been done a long time ago," he answered gravely. "Put your hands up."

Kouga was slow to comply, eventually raising his hands to shoulder height. He relieved him of his gun before he could do something stupid with it, like shoot himself in the head. He clicked on the safety and tucked it into the back of his pants before retrieving the cuffs from his pocket. A tingle of awareness snaked up his spine, letting him know that Kobayashi's gun was now aimed at him. Exhaling a sharp sigh of frustration, he glanced up and fixed him with a hard look.

"There's back up on the way. Unless you wanna spend the rest of your night in an interrogation room answering questions I suggest you get the hell out of here."

Kobayashi's eyes were cold as he considered the warning. He was so damn unreadable that for a moment Inuyasha wasn't sure if he'd take the bait or not. He eventually put the safety back on his gun and tucked it into the back of his pants.

Inuyasha exhaled a private sigh of relief. With Kobayashi gone, it was gonna be one less problem he'd have to deal with. The last thing he needed right now was another witness. He watched Kobayashi expectantly and was caught off guard when he made his way towards Rin.

"Leave her," he growled.

Kobayashi ignored him and loosened the ties around her wrists. She was unconscious but still alive and he wasted no time scooping her up. Not willing to let Kouga out of his sight, he was forced to watch as Kobayashi carried Rin down the worn tire path that led back to the main road. While losing Rin didn't sit well, he reasoned that at the very least Kobayashi would look after her. He could deal with that bastard later. For now, he had a much bigger pain in the ass to deal with.

With the departure of Rin and Kobayashi it was just the two of them left.

"So what's the big plan? Shoot me and say it was an accident?" Kouga wagered.

Inuyasha pushed the barrel of the gun against the back of Kouga's head and ordered him to get on his knees. If he let the justice system take its course, he might be out in 25 years or he might get off on a technicality. He had no intention of watching him walk out of some courthouse a free man, but he wasn't going to stoop to his level to get what he wanted.

"No," he ground out with effort. "I'm not."

"Coward," Kouga challenged.

Slipping his gun back into its holster, he pulled out Kouga's piece and ejected the clip. The moonlight glimmered off the unusual golden rounds and he let out the breath he'd been holding. Until that moment he hadn't truly believed it. He hadn't wanted to. The only partner he'd ever had, the one who'd helped him find Kagome and get her back, the only person he felt close enough to to maybe consider calling a "friend" was a fucking traitor?

The weight of realization hit him like a two tonne truck and left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He'd been willing to make excuses for him, but there was no explaining away the tangible evidence sitting in his hands.

"I'm guessing if I run these by forensics they'll be a match to the others," he commented offhandedly, giving the rounds one last, long look before returning the clip to the gun.

Kouga shrugged said nothing.

Kikyou's father, Lucky Akita, Yoshi Ishii and who knew how many others, had died by his hand. Tonight Rin's name had nearly been added to that grim list. His mind began to turn over other possibilities in light of the evidence. At the warehouse where they'd gone to find Kagome, he'd been almost _protective_ of Naraku. Memories came back, of Kouga's gun drawn and aimed at Kagome. He had no doubt now that he would have pulled the trigger if she hadn't given up the gun. A new wave of anger crashed through him. The bastard had played him for a fool.

Stepping in front of the man he'd once trusted, he gave him a long, hard look. "Why'd you do it?" he demanded.

"That's you're first mistake," he answered with a grim smile. "Takahashi, you obsess over the 'Why'. It's the 'why' that gets you every single time. You think you would've learned by now."

Inuyasha scowled and resisted the urge to punch him in the jaw. He'd be entirely within his right to break a few bones before taking him in, but he couldn't be bothered to write a three page report about it.

Kouga sighed wearily and gave him an exasperated look. "Come on, Inuyasha. You're telling me it never gets to you? Watching how they run this city, buying off everyone who matters?"

Inuyasha shrugged indifferently and resisted the temptation to entertain whatever twisted rationalization he'd come up with for being a yakuza hitman.

"I was just doing my part to keep the streets of Tokyo safe," he said with a self-righteous smirk.

"Killing Kikyou's father for a gambling debt? Shanking Ishii in his prison cell? That's your idea of keeping Tokyo safe?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, but I never killed anyone who wasn't guilty of somethin'."

"What exactly was Rin guilty of? Help me figure that one out," he demanded with a pointed look at the hole that'd been dug to bury her in.

Kouga glanced dismissively at the hole. "She was collateral. I had to lure Kobayashi out somehow. She was my best chance to do that and it worked. I would've had him too if you hadn't stormed in here and fucked everything up."

He turned a look of contempt on him and Inuyasha stepped back, amazed.

"Are you listening to yourself right now?" he asked, incredulous.

Kouga looked away and it took a moment before he could reign in the urge to toss his gun aside and throttle him with his bare hands. His mind flashed back to the day when he'd tackled the smug sonofabitch in the middle of the squad room floor and a faint smile teased at his lips. Nothing had ever felt quite as good as landing that first punch and wiping the smirk off the bastard's face with it.

The sobering realization that a battery charge might just be all Kouga needed to walk away from this a free man was enough to bring him to heel. Like hell the bastard was going to get a free pass on his account. Feeling more in control of himself, he crouched down in front of his former partner and looked him in the eye.

"There's a thin line in this business between being effective and being dirty," he said evenly. "I thought you would've known the difference by now."

"Don't tell me you of all people are going to read me the riot act about protocol," Kouga countered with a look of disdain.

"I wouldn't waste my breath," he said, standing up.

He needed to put a bit of distance between them before he really did crack him one across the jaw. Kagome would be proud of him for keeping it together, the Superintendent, too. He smiled a little as he looked out across the city and realized that when all was said and done she was what he was going home to.

He turned back to find Kouga watching him, his gaze speculative.

"You know you'd do it too if the money were right," he challenged. "Every man has his price."

He made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat and opened his mouth to object but Kouga didn't give him the chance.

"Oh, come off it! Everyone thinks they're beyond turning dirty until it's their ass on the line. Get off your goddamn high horse and look around, Takahashi! You're no different than me."

A bit of his control snapped and he found himself with Kouga's collar held tight in his fists. He shook him, and then a bit harder when he saw the satisfied gleam in his eyes.

"Wrong," he seethed, his voice like gravel. "I've had every offer under the sun to work for them and I never once accepted."

With effort he released Kouga's shirt and removed himself so he wouldn't be tempted to try and throttle him again.

"It comes down to character," he said softly, gaining back some of his lost control. "I may be a drunk, belligerent asshole but I'm still a better man than you."

He retrieved his gun and checked the clip. Having it close by, with its familiar weight in his palm was oddly reassuring. As he slipped the clip back into place, a slow smile spread across Kouga's lips. He tilted his head towards the main road with a curious lift of his brow.

"Back up isn't coming, is it?"

Inuyasha knew he would always cherish the expression of shocked disbelief that crossed Kouga's face at the very moment the red squad car lights illuminated the clearing. Hauling him to his feet with a hand under his arm, he guided him to the nearest squad car. The constable driving it gave him an uncertain look. Kouga was a popular guy and he knew how it must look.

"Don't worry, the Superintendent knows about this. Don't listen to anything he says and get him to 29th division. The union lawyer will meet you there."

The constable nodded his head in shaky agreement and got back in the car while Kouga was loaded into the back seat.

"See you soon," he teased him with a wicked grin before shutting the door.

Kouga kept his eyes forward, his attention fixed on the bars of the cage he now found himself in. It would be a familiar sight for at least the next 25 years.

Inuyasha watched the squad car pull around in the clearing and then head back to the main road. He waited until the last of the red lights had been swallowed by the darkness. Only then did his body sag with relief and drop to its knees.

_It's over, _he thought as he clumsily wiped the dampness from his cheeks. _It's finally over._

* * *

Author's Note:  Long wait, I know! I'm sure this chapter could be a bit more polished, but I was too eager to get it posted before I headed away for the weekend. I hope you enjoyed it!

I'm curious to hear your thoughts - how many of you were able to guess that Kouga was the gold bullet killer? I hope it was at least a bit of a surprise for some of you. The next chapter is already half written since my muse doesn't like to be linear so keep an eye out for it!

Many thanks to my readers for your continued support. You guys are the best anyone could hope for!

Cheers,

Langus


	39. Vigilante

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter Thirty-Nine -

Vigilante

The doctor stepped back from his inspection of her head and offered her a nervous smile, "It's superficial, nothing to be worried about."

He turned back to his medical bag and she found herself wondering how he'd managed to sound reassuring while staring a bullet wound in her head. The ridiculousness of the entire situation almost made her burst into hysterics. Instead she bit her lip and watched closely as he soaked a swab in iodine.

The doctor was a thin man, barely past fifty, with a pleasant dusting of salt and pepper hair. He had kind eyes and they sent a brief, pitying glance her way before they locked on the reason they both were there. Sesshomaru lingered an arm's length away, standing before the expansive bank of windows lining his living room. An untouched snifter of Scotch sat cradled in his hand as he took in the city below.

"You're a very lucky girl," the doctor said more softly. He offered a sympathetic look as he swept the iodine swab over her gash. The resulting sting caused her to flinch and hiss in pain. Sesshomaru turn in her peripheral vision and she glanced over in time to see his lips press into a frown.

"Am I?" she wondered to herself and slowly turned back to the doctor. Her tone held just the faintest hint of disbelief.

An hour ago she'd awoken inside Sesshomaru's car as it sped down the expressway, weaving expertly in and out of traffic. The view of Tokyo's bright city lights ahead of them nearly brought tears to her eyes. She'd never felt so homesick, so thankful to see that neon jungle of metal and concrete in her life. It was only in that moment that she realized she'd survived. She was still having trouble processing it. After all, how could anyone survive a gunshot to the head from so close a distance? But somehow she had.

Now she found herself in Sesshomaru's apartment, being cared for by a doctor he'd called up on his cell phone the moment they'd walked through the door. The man had arrived in less than 20 minutes, carrying a medical bag at his side.

"I didn't know doctors still made house calls these days," she observed, trying to make conversation as he wiped the gunpowder off her cheek with a damp cotton pad.

"We don't, but in certain situations alternative arrangements can be made," he replied, careful to keep his eyes on the task at hand.

Rin nodded absently and kept her eyes on the floor. Having a private doctor on speed dial was more than a mere convenience. When you come home with bullet wounds and want to avoid the hospital's mandatory policy of filing a police report for every gun related injury, having an 'alternative arrangement' was crucial. She wondered how many times the poor doctor had been dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night to patch someone up. How many other girls had his kind eyes given a sympathetic glance to in this apartment? How many of them were dead now?

As that horrifying thought circled through her mind, her gaze lifted to Sesshomaru. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. The glass was still cradled, untouched, in his hand. It seemed there was nothing he couldn't have or accomplish if he set his mind to it. He owned everything and everyone in Tokyo, except her. Maybe that was the point. They held each other's gaze until the sound of the doctor's medical bag snapping shut drew her attention away.

"All finished," he announced with a perfunctory look at his benefactor.

"Thank you," Rin said sincerely, bowing in gratitude.

The doctor looked abashed. "It's nothing at all," he reassured her with a bow of his own.

As an afterthought he placed a few packets of antibiotics in her hands. "These should keep any infection away, and I've done the best that I can to clean the wound but if you start to feel sick or faint, _please_ go to a hospital."

Rin promised him she would and he visibly exhaled his relief. Turning to Sesshomaru, he bowed low, thanked him for his patronage and reminded him that any time he was in need of assistance to please give him a call. Sesshomaru wordlessly escorted him to the door and Rin listened from the couch as the doctor bid them both 'Goodnight' before the door was shut in his face.

She waited, unmoving, for Sesshomaru to return to the living room. He moved at an unhurried pace, perhaps dreading their impending talk as much as she was. Slowly and carefully she got to her feet and held on to the back of the chair for support. The doctor may have patched up her head, but the waves of dizziness that came and went had yet to abate.

Uncertain what to expect, she pulled in a deep breath and met his golden-hued gaze. Half of her was terrified, the other half was livid. Her free hand was shaking, she realized, and quickly balled it into fist at her side.

He came to a stop in front of her, one hand lingering in his pocket while the other hung at his side. It looked empty without a glass in it. She guessed he'd left it in the kitchen, maybe even poured it down the drain. With the amount of money he had, he could afford to toss an entire tumbler of expensive Scotch. For people as wealthy and powerful as him, everything is disposable – even people. The thought left a bitter taste in the back of her mouth and provided the extra bit of strength she needed to confront him.

"Why didn't you kill him?" she asked point blank. It was a completely irrational place to begin, but it was an answer that gave them both a momentary reprieve from trying to untangle the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

"Death would have been too easy," he answered, his hand lifting to push a stray hair back from her face. She flinched involuntarily and he let his hand fall back, leaving the hair where it was.

"Prison is a far more suitable place for him to be – side-by-side with all the dogs he tricked and double crossed. Believe me, he will regret what he has done," he said with a chilling certainty.

Rin nodded wordlessly and looked away while her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip. Before she was aware she was moving, her feet took her to the bookshelf she'd stood in front of on her first night in his apartment.

The picture was still there, the glass flame reflecting in the moonlight. She picked it up and studied the large dark eyes of the woman standing next to Sesshomaru. Kagura, Sesshomaru's wife, stared blankly up at her with the faintest hint of a smile on her ruby lips. It was like she was mocking her, basking in her victory. She stared into the face of a woman she'd never met, a woman who wanted her dead badly enough to hire a hitman to do it, and felt a shiver run down her spine.

Replacing the picture with trembling hands, she turned round to find that Sesshomaru hadn't moved though his eyes followed her carefully.

"She will pay," he reassured her, his expression dark.

"Haven't you done enough?"

His brow lifted in surprise and she exhaled a short sigh of frustration. Feeling the beginnings of another dizzy spell, she put her hand to her head and wearily closed her eyes. The cool, light touch of his fingers against her neck was an unexpected surprise. His thumb levied beneath her chin, tilting it upwards and she opened her eyes to look into the amber orbs that had always seemed so endless. Tonight they were tinged with concern, and his brow furrowed a little as he looked her over.

"You're going to be alright," he determined, his quiet confidence reassuring. He leaned forward just enough for his lips to brush against her brow and her hands wrapped round his wrists, holding on for support.

"I want to go home," she whispered, finding it hard to force the words out around the lump in her throat.

"It's not safe," he stated, reluctantly pulling away.

She felt the absence of his warmth immediately and in its place a chill set in, one that froze her right to her core. Kagura could just as easily send someone else to find her at her old apartment. She'd never be safe there… She might never be safe again.

The first whispering acknowledgment of what she must do was pushed away with hardly a second thought, but it soon returned, creeping into her consciousness where it rooted itself and refused to be ignored.

"I'll stay with a friend," she suggested, despite knowing what his answer would be.

"You are safer here," he retorted, his features hardening into a stubborn frown.

She stepped fully out of his embrace then, and felt the ice at her core spread slowly into her limbs. The silence that suddenly filled the apartment made it spread faster. It crystallized her veins, gradually making its way to her heart. It was the only way she'd be able to leave, she knew. Hardening her heart against him was her last chance for survival.

"I can't do this," she admitted softly, wrapping her arms around herself. "I can't. Sesshomaru… You _have_ to let me go."

She hazarded a pleading glance his way and saw the change in his eyes. He didn't want to listen. His ego disliked being told to do anything and stood ready to refuse. But the other part of him, the part that cared for her, realized that this was where it had to end. It was a long moment before a quiet sigh of resignation slipped from his lips. She looked away, knowing that she'd won and tears filled her eyes. It was a hollow victory. Nothing felt good about this. She felt like she'd torn a piece of herself off and left it behind.

Her body felt uncoordinated as she slowly made her way to the door, knowing it would be for the last time. The jangle of his keys sliding off the counter into his hand shot through her with a sense of finality that made the breath catch in her throat. She exhaled shakily and stepped out into the hall, thankful for the rush of cool air against her face.

Thirty-seven stories below them, Tokyo went about its business undisturbed and completely unaware of the two souls above who'd found and lost each other in its cacophony. Instead, the bustling city guided them into what was left of the night with the help of neon lights and pachinko noise. Late night revellers spilled out of clubs, drunks laughed loudly at stupid jokes, and packed cabs littered the streets. No one took any notice of the odd looking pair getting into the expensive imported car.

That was both the beauty and the curse of the city; even when embraced by it, you were utterly alone.

xXx

The rapid click of her heels atop the linoleum punctuated Kagome's every anxious step. She'd never felt a corridor so long in all her life. She resisted the urge to run and clenched her fists at her sides. At the end of the hall a heavy metal door suddenly opened and a uniformed guard waved her in. She offered him a nervous smile as she passed and soon found herself in another hallway.

"It's just around the corner, to your right," the officer informed her.

Her feet picked up their pace and she rounded the corner with her heart in her throat. She hadn't known what to expect when they'd called her. An officer "Ogawa" had asked her to come – no explanation, no reassurance, just "Please come to the station immediately." She'd immediately hung up and called Inuyasha's cell. It went straight to voicemail. She tried again – nothing. Her stomach dropped with dread and she'd hailed the first cab in sight.

The ride from the Asahi Shimbun building to the precinct had been the longest of her life. Had something happened? Was he hurt? Why wouldn't they tell her anything over the phone? She'd nervously torn the cab driver's business card to shreds in the backseat as her mind tortured her with every possible scenario. This couldn't happen now. They'd only just gotten their second chance to be together and make things work. Fate couldn't be that cruel, could it?

But she knew perfectly well that it could, and so she'd prepared herself for the worst before rounding that corner. She prepared herself to see solemn faces and sympathetic looks, some unlucky soul approaching to tell her the bad news. Instead he was there in front of her – alive, whole and looking no worse for the wear. A cry escaped her and she launched herself at him, burying her face against his chest. Her relief at seeing him became all-consuming. She'd never cared for anything as much as she cared for this one stubborn, reckless man. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she held him tight, almost as though if she let up even the slightest he would disappear forever.

"I'm so glad you're alright," she breathed, shutting her eyes tight as she felt the solid warmth of his arms tighten against her back.

"Of course I'm alright," he rebuked softly. She could hear the hint of a smile in his voice and gave a tearful laugh in spite of herself. Of course he was alright. Exhaling for the first time since she'd received officer Ogawa's call, she slowly relinquished her hold on him and stepped back.

It was only then that she noticed the others. Six pairs of eyes were watching them curiously and she felt slightly embarrassed as she wiped the remnants of tears from her cheeks. She gave Inuyasha a sheepish look and a faint smile pulled at his lips. His arm lingered lightly around her waist, offering comfort and support. At one time he would have done everything possible to avoid a scene, probably even have mocked her for her display, but not now.

Feeling more like herself again, she turned her attention to the others. A few she recognized from her previous visits to the precinct, others she didn't know. She wondered if officer Ogawa was among them. They were a mixed bag - several of them wore uniforms, the rest plain clothes, but all had identical grave expressions. Inuyasha guided her to the large picture window the group was standing next to.

"He's been asking for you," he said with a nod at the figure on the other side. It was then that she realized it wasn't a window she was looking at but a mirror – a two way mirror. She was staring into an interrogation room and seated at the table staring back was Kouga. Her brows rose and her mouth hung open in surprise.

"Why does he have cuffs on? You don't mean-"

She glanced back and her suspicions were confirmed by the grim expression on Inuyasha's face. It was Kouga…? Her eyes darted from one face to the next, but they were all the same – sober, sombre and awash in disbelief.

"How...?" she croaked, barely able to get the word out.

"I suspected something after his partial fingerprint showed up on a gold-plated bullet fragment we retrieved at a crime scene," Inuyasha explained, focusing his gaze on Kouga.

"At first, I didn't want to believe he could be involved in something like this so I got access to his phone and bank records to rule him out as a suspect. Except, rather than exonerate him they revealed he'd been at this for a long, long time." A forceful exhale blew past his lips and he scratched distractedly at the stubble along his jaw.

"When you told me about Rin, I had the lab dig up both of their cell phone records on the off chance the two were connected. That's when I saw that he'd been in touch with Kagura. She took over Samiyoshi-kai after Naraku kicked the bucket," he explained with a sour look.

"I couldn't understand why Kouga had been in contact with Rin until you told me about Kobayashi's involvement. You know as well as I do about the rivalry between Samiyoshi-kai and Inagawa-kai. From there, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. I got the lab to trace the GPS in Kouga's phone and was on my way to confront him when you called."

She blinked up at him, stunned by this series of revelations. "So Kobayashi _wasn't_ the one who was after Rin?"

Inuyasha, looking somewhat mystified, lifted a brow and subtly shook his head. "Kobayashi was there, but Kouga was the one with his gun to her head. If I didn't know better, I'd think Kobayashi was trying to protect her. We still don't know why Rin was the target."

Kagome's eyes widened and slowly turned back to rest on her friend. He looked unperturbed, bored even, as his fingers drummed rapidly against the table.

"And Rin, is she...?" She couldn't bring herself to say the rest. The lump in her throat made it difficult to swallow as she thought of Rin, terrified, hurt, and thinking she was about to die. Kagome understood that fear better than anyone and it gutted her that someone as kind as Rin had ever had to experience it.

Inuyasha's hand came to rest atop her shoulder and offered a consoling squeeze.

"His gun went off before I could stop him," he said gravely. "Rin went down and Kobayashi took her with him. I don't know if she made it or not, but it didn't look good. I'm sorry..."

Kagome felt numb as she stared hard at the man on the other side of the mirror. She studied every inch that she could see of his face, searching for something she'd missed before. Her mind simply couldn't wrap itself around this new image of him. The friend who'd taken such good care of her during her darkest time was a heartless serial killer? It didn't make sense. She'd spent long enough looking into those eyes to know what lingered in their indigo depths. Those were not the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. There had to be a mistake…

But she also knew Inuyasha wouldn't lie, not about something this important. A heavy breath escaped her lips and her shoulders sagged.

"I can't believe it," she muttered in disbelief. Inuyasha's warm hand found hers and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"He's been asking to speak to you. You don't have to do it, but if he'll talk to you maybe we can get some questions answered."

"Like why the hell he did this?" she wondered aloud.

"Exactly. Think you might be up for it?"

She looked back and noticed the inquisitive stares of the other officers in the room. They wouldn't force her to do anything, but it was obvious that they needed her to get the information they were after. Looking back at Kouga, she realized she didn't have a choice. She'd never feel right about this if she didn't hear it from his lips. She wanted to know the whys just as desperately as they did.

"Okay, I'll do it," she said softly, aware of the silent exhalation of relief that emanated from the group.

"You don't have to," Inuyasha said, his voice low in her ear. "I know you two got close…before. I know he's a friend. Just say the word and we'll go home."

Those last three words left his lips so easily, so weightlessly, that it brought a fleeting smile to her own. To be home, with him – she'd love nothing more. Turning her back to Kouga, she looked Inuyasha in the eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

"I want to help. And I think I need to talk to him. I need to hear it for myself."

His gaze lingered on her, searching for any signs of doubt. Seeing only stubborn determination, he gave an understanding nod and gestured to the officer standing guard at the door.

"Okay, let's do this. But at the first hint of trouble I'm getting you outta there. Got it?"

The guard pulled open the door and Kagome peeked inside. She hesitated at the threshold, suddenly aware of the butterflies flittering about in her stomach. Pulling in a deep breath, she let it out slowly and turned to the officers waiting impatiently by the window.

"This has to be off the record or I'm not doing it," she explained plainly. Their faces darkened and she hastened to add, "The moment I enter this room, I'm a journalist for the _Asahi Shimbun_ and he's my confidential source. Understand?"

Several of the officers balked and shot Inuyasha imploring looks. She heard his sharp intake of breath and watched him exchange a quick glance with one of the men who she assumed was the Superintendent. He acquiesced with a nod and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alright boys, you heard her – turn the speaker off," Inuyasha instructed. Then he leaned down so his mouth was next to her ear and added more softly, "Be careful, Kagome."

She nodded and gave him a grateful look and then she was on her own. Steeling her nerves, she stepped through the door and waited until it clanged shut behind her.

The room was barren but for a metal table and two metal chairs at its centre. Kouga occupied one of the chairs and the other sat empty, waiting for her. A charismatic smile lit his face as she approached.

"Hey beautiful," he greeted, his smooth baritone caressing her. "You look good."

"I wish I could say the same," she replied, slowly lowering herself onto the seat across from him.

He nodded and bowed his head in a show of embarrassment.

"I heard what you said in the hall about me being your confidential source. I appreciate it."

Not sure what to say, she pressed her lips together and re-adjusted her skirt. The room was surprisingly cold and a ripple of goose bumps raced down the flesh of her arms.

"So, has the mutt been treating you alright?"

Her brows shot up in surprise. "Is this why you asked me to come here? So you could grill me about my love life?"

Kouga lightly shrugged his shoulders, "I was just making conversation, Kagome. That's what friends do, isn't it?"

"Friends don't keep secrets from one another," she replied a touch haughtily.

"Well, I never said I was perfect," he teased.

"… They told me about what you did," she said suddenly, the anxious words bursting forth before she could stop them. "Is it true?"

"What do you think?" he wondered, relaxing back against his chair.

"I don't know what to think," she confessed with a shake of her head. "I know you, Kouga. You're _good_. But I'm not naive enough to think that even a good person can't turn bad if pushed hard enough."

He looked amused by her assessment and so she pressed him for an answer. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," he replied calmly. His finger distractedly drew small concentric circles atop the metal tabletop. Her eyes followed the movement for a moment and then looked up to meet his gaze. He wasn't hiding anything from her, which made his words all the more confusing.

"Is what I did really so terrible? Gamblers, deadbeats, criminals, murderers, rapists – they're off the street forever thanks to me."

There was no remorse behind his words, she realized. He felt completely justified in what he'd done.

"No one asked you to be a vigilante, Kouga!" she admonished him. "You could have done it by the book. You didn't have to _kill_ them."

"That's where you're wrong," he said with a sympathetic smile. "You've seen how corrupt our justice system is. It's a farce – nothing more than a revolving door. Defendants walk in to court all the time with a mountain of evidence stacked against them and are set free on a technicality. I got sick of watching scum be put back on the streets to cause more damage and ruin more lives."

Kagome regarded him with a hard look. "I'd have more room to stomach your rationalizations if you hadn't been working for the very people you claim you were trying to stop."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he responded.

"Then explain it to me so I do understand because right now I can't even begin to fathom how you slept at night while playing errand dog to someone like Naraku. And I certainly can't understand whatever logic you used to justify taking someone as innocent as Rin and putting her life in danger."

Kouga exhaled a heavy sigh and brushed his fingers through his hair. The metal links of his handcuffs clinked together, the sound hammering home the strange reality of the situation they were both in.

"Dealing with these people, these groups of yakuza, it's like dealing with a hive filled with hornets. If you attack the hive from the outside they emerge as a unified force and their retribution is relentless. Attacking them from the inside is the only option. You enter like a poison, spreading vitriol, conjecture and mistrust until eventually their carefully constructed ranks begin to break down. They're all power hungry and eager to kill each other for a bigger slice of the pie. Once you caused dissention, there's no stopping the destruction. Eventually a power void is created at the top. Once that happens, it's game over - the hive is powerless and can be easily dismantled from the outside."

"So you were the poison…"

Kouga nodded.

"So let's assume, for the moment, that I'm taking you at your word. That wonderful analogy you just gave me still doesn't explain why you did what you did to Rin. What did she do to deserve any of this?"

"What happened to her is regrettable, but she has very poor choice in men. Unfortunately she was a necessary means to an end. I needed Inagawa-kai and Samiyoshi-kai to take one another out. The easiest way to do that was to play both sides. I gained Sesshomaru's trust by completing the hit he ordered on Yoshi Ishii, and I gained Kagura's trust by continuing to be their man for hire and accepting the hit she put out on Rin. It required very little effort on my part to have them within a hair trigger of killing each other. With them gone, the two most powerful crime syndicates in Tokyo will collapse, leaving our streets and families safer. I'm sure your friend would happily give up her life for such a noble cause."

"That wasn't your call to make. What you did was cruel…inhumane! It makes me sick just thinking about it."

He shrugged again, unapologetic, "It had to be done. Things didn't go exactly the way I wanted them to, but it might have been enough. Time will tell."

Kagome sat back to give herself time to absorb everything Kouga had said. What bothered her most was the conviction in his gaze. He believed every word coming out of his mouth and that only made it harder for her to swallow. If he were crazy it'd be an easy task to condemn what he'd done as the actions of a lunatic. After all, wasn't what the press always did when faced with a serial killer? Yet, here was an officer of the law, a friend, telling her in completely rational terms how his killing of countless people was completely justified.

"Why tell me?" she asked softly, defeated in the face of his monumental confession.

"Because of all the people in this building, I figured you'd be the one person who could understand just how badly I wanted those people gone. Their presence taints this city like a disease, slowly turning it black from the underbelly up. I know what happened with Oniguomo. I know what he did to you and how close you came to dying that night. I thought you would understand the futility of trying to control people like that within the realm of the law. The only way people like you, like Rin and all the other innocent ones out there can be safe is if these organizations are gone - no matter what the cost."

Kagome stared at him wide-eyed. The truth was, a part of her did understand. Until the moment when she'd known for certain that Oniguomo was dead on her kitchen floor, she hadn't felt a single moment of relief. The restraining order hadn't protected her. Moving hadn't kept her safe. She'd been utterly helpless until she'd taken things into her own hands and dealt him a fatal blow. Not a single day had passed where she regretted that decision, but she couldn't condone what Kouga had done.

Maybe that made her a hypocrite, but at the end of the day she'd killed Oniguomo in self-defence. Kouga chose people he deemed to be unworthy and executed them with a bullet to the back of the head. That was the difference. She may understand the impetus for what Kouga had done, but that didn't mean she could ever accept it or forgive him for it.

"What now?" she wondered, finding herself at a loss to say anything else.

"My turn's over. It's time for someone else to play the hero and make the next move."

"None of this makes you a hero," she lamented softly. "At the hospital and after… you were my hero then, Kouga. But this…? I can't accept it. I can't look you in the eye and tell you that I think what you did was right. You've killed people, Kouga, a lot of people, and you deserve to go away for it."

She stood to go and felt his eyes on her. It was then that the question she really wanted to ask surfaced. It was ugly and dark and a part of her wondered whether it was worth bringing up at all, but once it was there there was no getting rid of it.

"That night at the pier…," she began slowly, mulling over her words.

He shook his head minutely. "Don't go there," he pleaded.

Ignoring him, she pressed on, determined now to get her answer. "That night at the pier, would you have shot me to save Naraku?"

Her mind travelled back to the night she'd tried so hard to put out of her mind. She'd stood over Naraku with a gun in her hand, beaten, bloody, and terrified of living a life where she had to constantly look over her shoulder. She'd been ready to kill him and then Kouga had trained his gun on her. Not Naraku the crazy yakuza boss who'd spent the last 72 hours torturing her, but _her_.

Afterwards she'd been too traumatized to dwell on it, and with his kindness at the hospital and when she was discharged she'd put it out of her mind completely, but the scene returned to her now just as vivid as it'd been that day. Would he have done it? Would he have shot her to protect his cover?

Kouga looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.

"I want an answer," she pressed, her voice like ice.

He looked back at her then, his expression torn. It was the first hint of regret she'd seen in him since she'd entered the room.

"I don't know," he said finally, his words barely audible.

"You don't _know_?"

"I considered it," he shot back, exasperated. "Naraku knew I was playing both sides, but if he'd died while I was in that room all the progress I'd made in both organizations would have up and disappeared. So yes, I considered it. I didn't do it though, did I?"

Her head was left spinning in the wake of his confession and her mind tried furiously to reconcile the memories of the Kouga she knew with the stranger sitting in front of her. She felt sick at the thought of how close they'd come to being something more than friends. Her hands shook as she awkwardly smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt and prepared to leave.

"I know I don't have any right to ask anything of you, but I hope you'll do me one bit of kindness. For the sake of the good times…"

Kagome gaped at him in disbelief, wondering what he thought he could possibly ask from her now.

"Tell my story," he said simply, folding his hands together atop the table. "You know the truth now, all of it. Make sure someone else knows it."

"I'll do my best," she promised wearily. To be honest, she didn't have the first clue what to do with what he'd told her. The journalist inside of her was itching for a laptop to get it all down while it was still fresh, but another part of her wanted to bury it somewhere so deep it would never see the light of day.

The heavy metal door creaked open and she glanced over her shoulder to find Inuyasha's anxious face peering in. It was her cue to leave. Feeling herself relax a little at the sight of him, she made her way to the door, turning back only once to give Kouga a long, hard look.

One of his cuffed hands waved goodbye to her in a simple gesture and for a moment her heart caught in her throat. She wondered, for a brief moment, if it'd all been a dream. There was no way a story like this could possibly be real. But the scent of Inuyasha's leather jacket as his arms wrapped around her was strong and clear in her nose.

_So, not a dream then._

"Come on," he said softly, pulling her away, "I've got some really shitty coffee in the break room that'll perk you right up."

Kagome smiled in spite of herself and leaned into him as he guided her down the hall. Behind her the sound of a metal door clanging shut echoed off the linoleum with a sense of finality, freeing her from that nightmare chapter of her life. It'd been a long, hard ride, but it was finally over. No more unanswered questions, no more nightmares, no more fear. Glancing covertly at Inuyasha as they made their way down the halls of Tokyo's 29th Precinct, Kagome felt something she hadn't felt in a very, very long time - safe.

* * *

Author's Note: Finally, an update! I hope you guys are as excited as I am about this chapter. It's been a long time coming so at least it's a nice long one for you to sink your teeth into ;)

I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me through the long waits. It's been a pretty hectic year for my personal life (but in a very good way) so I haven't had much time to sit down and write. Only one chapter and an epilogue left. Are you guys ready for this story to end? I'm not :( But it's gotta be done. Hope you'll stick around to see how everything wraps up!

Much love,

Langus

Edit: I realized after I'd posted this that I left out an entire scene *headdesk* It's been added in now, so hopefully the chain of events makes a bit more sense. Sorry for the confusion everyone!


	40. Sayonara

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 40 –

Sayonara

There was a cacophony of noise beyond his window – truck engines, bicycle bells and politicians spewing rhetoric through a megaphone – but within his Lexus only the gentle hum of the engine disturbed the silence. His car had been parked in the same spot for a quarter of an hour, his attention devoted to small coffee shop located across the street. It was a vibrant little venue, patroned by the typical university crowd. There was little that could have been called unique or inspiring about it, but it had captured her interest and so it captivated his.

A necklace weaved idly between his fingers counting out the measure of his thoughts. He glanced down at it and the gold chain caught the sun's light and reflected it back at him. His mouth turned upwards in one corner in an uncharacteristic show of affection. It was a simple necklace, just a trinket really, but it was hers and so he hadn't been able to bring himself to get rid of it. He wasn't normally the sentimental type, but these were not normal circumstances. Nothing about their relationship had fit that definition.

He'd lost count of the number of times he'd driven to this spot, only to fight a war inside himself over whether to exit the car and take that first step. The question was always the same - how much was her happiness worth? The petite little waitress who'd made him _feel_ in a callous world? The answer never changed and so the result was always the same. He kept his distance, just as he'd promised.

The first time he found himself parked across from her new place of employment he'd reasoned that he was merely ensuring her safety. Kagura hadn't given up her vendetta against either of him. It was the least he could do was prevent her from interfering again.

After the second, third, fourth and fifth times it became more and more difficult to justify his behavior. There were times when he would close his eyes and listen for the soft cadence of his leather soles upon the pavement, imagine the weight of the door in his hand as he pulled it open, and the scent of fresh coffee and baked bread that would greet him inside. It could be so if he wished it. All he had to do was open the door and take that first step…

It was a tempting thought and more than once he'd allowed his hand to linger boldly on the door handle. But then his memories of that night would come back - the pale light of the full moon that had bathed the earth, reflecting off the stones so they glimmered like diamonds in the dark. That same soft, blue glow had made her skin appear luminescent and highlighted the tears upon her cheeks. She'd looked so beautiful, so fragile...

The deafening gunshot exploded through his memory. He felt the bullet cut through him even now, leaving a fiery wound where his heart had been. The moment she fell atop the soft earth he felt the weight of his failure bear down upon him. It clawed through him, violent and brutal and without the slightest hint of mercy. He'd never felt so helpless.

Opening his eyes, Sesshomaru shook off the memory and tucked the necklace inside his jacket. She'd asked to leave the day after the shooting and he hadn't the will to deny her. He even consented to keep his distance on the sole condition that she accept enough money to get safely established. She did, though very reluctantly, and found herself a 1DK apartment in a quiet parcel of Minato-ward. Her neighbours were a single mother of two and an unhappily married pair of octogenarians. The job came soon after. Evenings, weekends and every other Wednesday she could be found at the coffee shop where she worked part-time.

He glanced at the establishment through his darkly tinted window and watched two patrons enter wearing smiles. It was a perfectly peaceful scene, one he didn't belong in. Here her life was uncomplicated, routine and safe. She couldn't be any further separated from his world and he was glad for it. There was no place for her there, just as there was none for him here, as another cog in the fresh faced industrial machine Tokyo boasted to the world.

It was how things had to be, and how they should have been from the beginning. He'd made the mistake of thinking he could ignore the boundaries between their worlds and it'd nearly cost him her life. He did not need to be reminded of what the consequences would be if he dared fate and crossed them again.

Dragging in a deep breath, Sesshomaru exhaled slowly and deliberately turned his face away. With a steady hand he shifted the car into drive and merged onto the road. He watched the coffee shop fade in his rearview mirror for the last time, slowly devoured by the jungle of cars and concrete buildings all around it. He would honour his promise to her, not because of some newfound noblility but because it was the only thing she'd ever asked of him. It would be the first vow he'd ever honoured in his life and she deserved nothing less.

oOo

Kagome stretched her arms above her head and let out a soft, satisfied sigh. The piece she'd been toiling away at was nearly complete. Turning her gaze to the man stretched out next to her, she felt a smile tug at her lips.

Within 24 hours of the story hitting the newsstands, he'd become the most sought after detective in the city. Suddenly they all wanted to know about the man who'd taken down Tokyo's notorious "gold bullet killer." The media salivated over the gritty details of the take down, the case, his personal life… "Tokyo's unsung hero", they called him. The accolades were quick to come and were never sparing in their descriptions of him as a man of high morals and integrity. It was a far cry from how he'd been treated by the press in the past, herself included.

Inuyasha's cell phone buzzed to life on his hip and he snatched it up, barely sparing a glance to check the number. With a quiet snort he sent the call to voicemail and returned to his paper.

_Another call for an interview, no doubt_, she thought.

There had been a dozen calls since breakfast, everyone wanting their little piece of him. Each time the phone rang, he groused and groaned over it but there was always a hint of a smile on his lips. Because of one case, one mistake, he'd spent a decade being misunderstood, ridiculed and ignored, but he'd finally found the absolution he'd fought so hard for.

He carried himself differently now – taller… prouder. With the weight of his guilt and self-doubt now gone, the confidence that'd slowly bled from him for a decade was beginning to return. With each day she saw another small glimmer of the man he'd once been and it was someone very much to her liking.

The thought brought a smile to her lips and Inuyasha fixed her with a curious look.

"What?"

She shook her head and snapped her laptop shut.

"Just happy to be finished. It's some of my best work, you know," she teased.

"Yeah? Am I gonna get to read it or do I gotta wait till it goes to the presses?"

"All in good time," she answered sweetly. "First, I plan on taking a long, hot shower. Care to join me?"

A playful smile crept across his lips and he snapped his paper open once more.

"Be there in a minute. Just gonna finish reading this last article."

"Alright, suit yourself."

He waited until the shower hissed to life before quietly folding his paper and setting it aside. Pulling her computer onto his lap, he opened it and began to read the file she'd left open. All the other interviews he'd done and articles he'd read singing his praises were great, but hers was the only one he was interested in. Hers made all the difference.

Two years ago they'd met after he read a scathing article she'd written about him in the paper. They'd fought, hated each other, fought some more, fell in love, nearly lost one another and then found each other again. It'd been a remarkable ride and perhaps the most perfect testament to it all was the magnum opus staring up at him from her computer screen.

_I'd like to issue an apology,_ it began, _to the man whose reputation I so thoroughly besmirched in the November 12, 2008 issue of the Asahi-shimbun. I professed him to be a coward, a failure and called his professionalism and character into question. Those sentiments could not be further from the truth. _

_How would I describe the man I know today? The word honourable comes to mind, followed quickly by brave, uncompromising and sharp. For the past two years I have had the honour to call Detective Takahashi of Tokyo's 49th division my friend. If you, kind reader, would be so indulging, allow me the opportunity to rectify my past mistake by presenting a true portrait of a man who has worked tirelessly to make Tokyo's streets safer. _

_Like a dark knight, Detective Takahashi has operated behind the scenes for the past decade - making connections, collecting information, and piecing clues together. When it came to ensuring the safety of Tokyo's streets, Detective Takahashi left no stone unturned, no lead un-followed, and would not bow to those who suggested he simply turn a blind eye. It is that diligence, which persevered in the face of mounting criticism and harsh accusations of misconduct in the press, that led to the arrest last week of Tokyo's gold bullet killer. _

_Accused is former Detective from the 39th division, Kouga Inokuma. He is currently awaiting trial. _

_It is thanks to Detective Takahashi, Tokyo's too-long unsung hero, that we will sleep safer in our beds tonight. It is this reporter's hope that this story inspires – not only those of us who need a small reminder to do our best in our day-to-day lives but also the little ones, the children who dream someday of being a police officer or a firefighter. Now they have someone worth looking up to – a role model of honour and duty who should no longer be ignored. _

_Two years ago, I made the single largest mistake of my career in condemning this man. Though he would never consider it necessary, I hope you will join me in extending to him our sincerest apologies. Detective Takahashi, for your tireless years of sacrifice for this city, we thank you._

Speechless, he sat back and took a breath.

"Do you like it?"

He glanced up to find her in the doorway, her hair still dry and her body wrapped in a towel. She'd known he would read it after all. He cleared his throat softly and managed an embarrassed, "It's a bit much don't you think?"

She smiled warmly and made her way to the bed.

"It's not nearly enough. Inuyasha, you've done so much for me. This is the least I could do in return."

He exhaled softly and shook his head in disbelief.

"Kagome, I…"

Leaning in, she placed a soft kiss against his lips and slowly closed her computer screen.

"Come on," she said, setting the device aside. "My shower's lonely without you in it."

For a little extra encouragement, she casually dropped her towel to the floor as she sashayed out of the room and he watched her go with a smirk pulling at his lips. Eager to follow, he slipped off his t-shirt and discarded it on the floor next to her towel.

Kagome was humming a tune in the shower, some cheesy pop song from the radio. He smiled and found himself pausing with his belt half-undone. In moments like this he struggled to comprehend the radical change that had taken over his life in the last year. To go from tormented, alone and ridiculed, to loved, lauded and waking up in Kagome's bed would be a lot for any man to accept. Some mornings he still woke up wondering if it'd all been a dream. But then a voice would speak up from somewhere deep inside of him and say, "You've earned this. Enjoy it!" For the first time in his life he was finally ready to listen.

Scratching a hand through his silver hair, Inuyasha directed a smile at the city he loved and then made his way to the shower. For however long this lasted, however long the Fates allowed, he was going to enjoy being happy. After all the shit they'd put him through, he'd earned it.

* * *

_Author's Note: _Sorry for the wait everyone! Moving to the other side of the world will do that do you, I guess. This chapter is a little shorter than my others have been, but it ties up all the ends I wanted it to. I hope you enjoyed it (and this fic!).

I have been so blessed to have such amazing readers following this story. This is the final chapter, but there will be a short epilogue forthcoming. Thank you so much for your support and patience over the years. I absolutely could not have completed this fic without you.

For anyone who might be interested, the first half of this chapter was almost wholly inspired by the song "Ladder" by Andrew Belle.

'Till next time,

Langus


	41. Epilogue

_Love's Smirking Revenge_

- Chapter 41 –

Epilogue

_Author's Note:_This epilogue's just a bit of fun (I use that word a touch ironically) and NOT necessary to the rest of the story. It's for anyone who might have found themselves wondering after the last chapter – but what happened to Kagura? This bit was an idea I had that just wouldn't quiet till I wrote it down, so here it is. Hope you enjoy it!

xXx

A double knock sounded at the door. Kagura looked up from account book and waited expectantly. The door opened and a petite, mousy creature was ushered in. Kagura's eyes roved over the girl's dull red dress, plain black flats and poorly matched purse. Even her clothes were left wanting – whatever had Sesshomaru seen in such a pathetic creature? Her lips lifted into a self-important sneer and Kagura set down her pen.

"He's started sending you on errands, has he?"

Rin took a seat in front of her and set her bag on the floor. "He doesn't know I'm here," she answered calmly.

Her interest piqued, Kagura sat back in her chair. "He doesn't tolerate disobedience, you know."

The girl stared at her stone-faced and she found herself quickly losing interest. "Well if you aren't his errand bitch, what are you doing here? Looking for a job perhaps? Such a shame about the café..."

She smiled cruelly, amused by her own joke.

"You and I have unfinished business," the girl answered coldly.

Kagura rolled her eyes. "Listen, you made your choice. If you're too stupid to understand the rules of our world, stay the hell out of it."

"Oh, I think I understand them just fine," she replied with a thin smile. "Sesshomaru punished you for your insolence, you punished him for washing his hands of you and you punished me for taking him from you. Have I left anything out?"

Though she took issue with that particular version of events, Kagura didn't object to the assessment. She folded her hands under her chin and lifted an expectant brow. If the girl was trying to make her feel pity, she was doing a damn poor job of it.

The girl kept her eyes downcast and toyed with the hem of her glove. "So…"she said carefully, "That just leaves me."

"You?" Kagura scoffed.

The girl looked up and their eyes met. For a moment she was taken aback. She'd expected to find vulnerability or fear but saw only callous determination.

"Those are the rules, aren't they?" she quipped, a cold smile touching her lips.

It was only then that she noticed the gun nestled in the girl's lap. Where had it come from? How had she managed to sneak it past her security? Kagura felt the first fledgling shot of fear snake down her spine, but she had no intention of letting this tiny slip of a girl, Sesshomaru, or anyone else for that matter, make her vulnerable.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?" she challenged, her tone maintaining its hard edge.

The girl sighed softly and cradled the gun in her hands. "Yes, actually."

"You don't have it in you," she sneered. "It's one thing to threaten and a whole other to pull the trigger."

The gun discharged with an explosive bang and her body jerked backward, thrown into the chair. For a moment all she could focus on was ringing in her ears, and once it slowly began to fade she felt the first touch of fire against her skin. The bitch had actually shot her! Her hatred for the stupid creature sitting across from her reached new heights. She would not be outdone! She'd rip the little bitch's head off and nail it to Sesshomaru's door!

Kagura tried to stand but her body refused to move. Her legs and arms had become too heavy to lift and she found herself paralyzed as the girl calmly stood and walked around the desk towards her.

Where were her guards? Had no one else heard the shot?

The girl leaned against the edge of her desk and studied the blood that was blooming across the front of her dress.

"You're right," she confessed, "it _is_ a whole other thing to pull the trigger. And just think, without your…," she paused and chose her next word carefully, "_interference_ this never would have been possible."

"You'll never make it out of here alive," Kagura threatened, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course I will," she answered frankly and calmly tucked the gun into her purse. "There's a lot of power hungry people willing to do just about anything to get rid of the competition. A little bribe was all it took."

Kagura's mind was racing, wondering which of her men had betrayed her. Ito? Deguchi? It could have been any one of them. She struggled to reply and found that her throat had gone dry. Only a strangled cry emerged that made her sound far more pathetic than she felt.

"It's terrifying, isn't it? The realization that you will never have the chance to do all the things you wanted to do; knowing that not a single person in this ugly world will miss you…There's a certain loneliness that creeps up on you when you realize that you will take your last breath still unwanted, unloved and unforgiven."

Kagura narrowed her eyes and focused on the words coming out of the girl's lips. It was becoming difficult to breathe, even keeping her eyes open took effort. The girl pushed off the desk and headed for the door. She stopped just long enough to cast a pitiless smile over her shoulder before closing it shut behind her.

In her absence, a deafening silence filled the room. It was then that she finally felt it, the fear the girl had spoken of. There were no kind words or a warm hand resting overtop of hers, no voice in her ear whispering pointless reassurances. At one time she'd convinced herself she had no need for those things, but now, in her final moments, she desired them more than anything else.

The loneliness crept in like the dark of night and stole away whatever shred of pride she'd been clinging to. Tears glistened in her dark eyes and her heart squeezed out its last sluggish beat. With her final breath Kagura whispered the name of the only man she'd ever loved because it was his absence she felt most of all. His perfect hands, strong jaw, cold amber eyes and infectious arrogance… She'd loved every part of him, so recklessly, so blindly... What a fool she'd been.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Thank you to my wonderful readers for following me and supporting me throughout this journey. I received so many kind messages after the last chapter went up – it truly blew me away. I will absolutely show my gratitude and respond to each one! It's been such a fun ride with these characters, so much so that I can hardly believe it's over. It feels like no time at all has passed but it's been five years. Amazing how time jumps like that without us even noticing. At the end of the day though, I couldn't have finished this without you and that's the truth. Thank you.

Until next time,

Langus


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